Fragments
by The Seelie Court Jester
Summary: And in the end, they were all just fragments of some distant memory. A prologue to "Mirror."
1. A doll's tale

Sick.

That's how he described them as.

They were both sick.

* * *

Alan Faustus wasn't a very shy young man. In fact, he wasn't very shy at all. He boasted his handsome looks, his slick, platinum hair trailing down his lean, muscular neck, which reflected the many colors that obeyed his every order. He had warm, brown eyes, eyes that could make any girl melt. They were vanilla, mixed with chocolate, mixed with carmel, mixed with whatever candy people found appropriate to label him with. His skin had a light tan, and he was tall enough that he could easily claim the attention of a whole room. His long, slender fingers could dominate an entire piano, or a harp, or a violin, or any other instrument that came to mind, and his intelligence was beyond his years, so much so that he was known for putting the top scientists and philosophers to shame.

And he was rich too. His parents owned a huge fashion franchise, so he had a fortune that could circle the globe a countless number of times. He could buy out practically any business he wanted, and all of his endeavors were painfully successful. He had a wonderful family life, his parents willing to spend whatever dime they had on him, and an adoring household, with servants clinging to his every want and need. He only had to snap his fingers, and his desires, spoken and unspoken, would be delivered to him.

The man was spoiled, to say the least.

But after some years of living underneath this luxurious lifestyle, the boy decided he wanted to take over his parents' corporation. So he badgered his caretakers diligently, trampling all over their precious jewels (he bled so very much), ripping away at those hated tax returns (he bled even more), and even spending days on end not talking to them (though in all honesty, he suffered from a sore throat), until at last, they finally gave into his demands. So they decided to pay for the world's top educational facility, packed a few of his belongings, gave him a year's worth of allowance, and sent him there, ensuring that he would be placed at the top of his class.

Alan smirked haughtily, knowing full well his desires would be met. After all, if he complained loud enough, and if his behavior was destructive enough, he knew that more than likely he was going to get whatever he lusted after. It always worked like that in his life.

And as he stared out the windows, the blue ocean speedily passing him by, a distant island came across the landscape. The morning mist was irritating as usually, but it was all going to be worth it in the end. He felt a prideful smile tug at his lips, and he sat back in his chair, his own private jet making a smooth landing onto the runway the school had prepared just for him.

Here he would be staying; Duel Academy.

* * *

The first time he met them was when he came into the Chancellor's office.

The Headmaster himself was a bit pudgy, with a small, grey beard etched onto his face. The man was so bald Alan could practically his own reflection (the bald head was pretty convenient), and he wore a maroon clock with white outlines. There was a woman standing next to his desk, an ugly woman with long, blond hair tied up into a neat ponytail. The purple lipstick that was painted messily on her face did little to hide her cracked lips, and her nails were so elongated Alan had to wonder if she was human at all. There were big pink frills sticking out from her shoulders, and the way that she conducted herself was so immature he started to rethink the idea about coming to the island at all. It disturbed him even more when the woman was smiling dangerously at him, so much so Alan had to resist running back to the plane.

Of course, by now it must've already left.

Chancellor Shepard waved the hideous woman away, and asked Alan a few basic questions, all of which he answered in that normally bored tone of his. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the walls. "What'd you do for fun here anyways?"

"Well, we have a lovely pool-"

"Yeah yeah, anything else?"

"I-if you want to look at the arena-"

Alan sighed frustratedly, ignoring the Chancellor as he rambled on and on about some other nonsense. His eyes bore the floor while the clock beside him kept ticking on and on and on, those precious seconds passing him by, seconds he would never get back again. Maybe it was the fact the school was stuck in the middle of nowhere, or how he was wrong about having an exciting life once he was out of his parents' control, but either way, he wanted to go back. He was just about to yank the phone away from the Chancellor's desk and call the pilot to circle back and pick him right up, when the doors suddenly creaked open.

Alan wouldn't have looked up at them. In fact, he wouldn't be interested at all at the students who had just entered. But when the Chancellor told him they would be the ones showing him around, Alan couldn't help but give one irritating glare.

Then he saw them.

There was a boy, who was around the same age Alan was. He wore a red jacket, with those same white outlines. He had on faded black jeans, with a black undershirt that was halfway tucked in. His brown hair was messily done, with a few light highlights in them, so subtle Alan hadn't even noticed them initially. The girl accompanying the boy was in the same dorm Alan was, Obelisk blue. She had long, blond hair that cascaded down her back, and creamy skin, with a beautiful face that rivaled Alan's (which he admitted gladly). She had long legs that went on forever, and high-heels that made her just a bit taller than the boy. Her voluptuous body was also a treat.

But their eyes were what he paid the most attention to.

They were dark, steel-like, with an aura of black spreading around them. There was a certain fearless wildness hidden within their corneas, though their faces radiated in a dark elegance, a gracefulness which normally had no chance of blossoming, especially underneath the light's guise. The entire air around them was cool and composed, and when the boy caught Alan's annoyed glare, he returned it icily, with a tight smile along the edge of his mouth. Though the girl's pupils were a bit more amiable, she too, dismissed him from her mind.

The Chancellor introduced the boy as Jaden Yuuki, and the girl as Alexis Rhodes.

* * *

Since then, Alan had devoted most of his time to finding out about those two, the girl for romantic purposes, the boy simply because he was curious. Alan's grades were always high, and he managed to woo every teacher so that it wouldn't hard to convince them for him to skip class. He would look at the libraries, search the databases, and even steal a look at their records to find any answer at all. He would usually talk to people who knew them, both personally and indirectly, and always, they would say the exact same things.

"Cool."

"Nice."

"Friendly."

"Sweet."

They were answers Alan wasn't satisfied with.

The boy, Jaden, was a senior that had _horrible_ grades. He was at the bottom of the bottom, and Alan had to ask himself why he was able to make it _this_ far. The girl, Alexis, was also a senior, but was the first in her class. Still, they both aced every dueling exam, and had gotten the upper hand a majority of times against their opponents, defeating them with all their might. Jaden used an Elemental Hero deck, while Alexis dabbled in the Cyber Angel series.

At that point, Alan should have been fine with knowing that much. He should have been able to focus on his studying; after all, he was planning on graduating a year early. He already had enough influence around the school, so much so he'd have an easy time getting those sought-after recommendation letters. With his now brightly lit future, this strange obsession with Jaden and Alexis would finally come to an end.

But it didn't.

Alan started following the two. Alexis would be with her own friends, busily getting ready for the graduation ceremony and for the big senior banquet, while Jaden would be out fishing, relaxing to the tunes of the early summer breeze. Alan couldn't even begin to count how many times he sat there, watching them doing whatever it was they happened to be doing. Their activities were so mundane, so trivial that Alan started to wonder if he'd actually gone _insane._ Was he was so wrapped up over one little _look_ that he lost sight of what was truly important? The aspect was just so humiliating Alan was determined to make himself stop.

Then he had finally caught on.

He was studying for the semester finals in the library that evening, one book in hand, the other slowly resting on his cheek, his fingertips trying to keep himself from nodding off. He yawned, his long arms stretching to no end. This was getting nowhere. He's reviewed the material so many times, he could easily recite the entire textbook backwards. He rubbed his eyes and shut the book, then stood. His eyes slid toward the clock, and his mouth parted slightly at the time; almost midnight.

He gathered his belongings and made his way out of the library, his footsteps echoing throughout the hallways. The darkness creeped him out a little, but he wasn't scared. He already knew there was nothing there, those creatures that went bump in the night. It was ludicrous to think that things like that exist.

Then heard furious whispers.

Jaden and Alexis.

"This is getting out of hand."

"But _someone_ took it-"

"Can't you just buy another one?"

"No! That was Annabelle!I love her more than my own life!"

"You're overreacting!"

"But you said…"

The whispers became silent again. Alan narrowed his eyes, and crept a bit closer to the two shadows, who were by now entangled in some emotional mess.

Doll? Wasn't Alexis supposed to grow out of playing with them by now? That regal image he had of her from the first day he met her slowly crumbled to pieces, replaced by a crying little girl that only wanted her toy back; it was that very depiction that made her even cuter than she was. He snickered.

And when Alan looked up, he saw Jaden standing there, with that same, prideful annoyance he had from before. There was a deep black in his eyes, and though Alan wanted to brush him off, he couldn't help but freeze, unable to move. "Can I help you?" he demanded.

"I…I…" Where had his voice gone? This _asshole_ was just asking for it! And after all the interest Alan had invested in them! Still, he looked away, and held up a book timidly, and said, "I was just…studying…I was making my way from the library…"

"Oh." Jaden relaxed a bit, though his muscles were still tense. His eyes visibly softened, and with that, the dangerous mood slowly ebbed away. "You're that new kid, right? Alan Faustus?"

"Y-yeah"

"Sorry," he mumbled, as he grabbed onto Alexis's wrist and dragged her away. "We'll get out of your hair then."

And off they scurried, arguing once again under the cover of shadows. Alan stared after them for a bit, and was shocked when Alexis turned, her bright brilliance shimmering at the edge of night. She smiled at him.

"Do you know who stole her?" she asked.

* * *

Thomas Richard was the king of snobs, and everyone knew it.

He was always talking down to others, bragging about how he was so much smarter than they were. He was a student from Ra yellow, and often times, he would say he was the best duelist in that dorm, that he could beat Bastion Misawa in his sleep. He was average looking, but he wore those looks like a badge of honor, something no one paid any attention to. He didn't have the best grades, and even when he at least managed to pass a test, it was because some teacher felt sorry for him, or he bribed his way into making said grade He would always pester the girls for their numbers, and threaten them if they shot him down; he was just _that_ powerful. He could even shut down half the Faustus fashion industry with just one phone call.

All in all, he was pathetic.

So it irritated Alan a countless number of times when he started flirting with Alexis.

Many times a day, she would throw away his love letters to her, and give his gifts to other girls, sometimes chocolates, other times roses, even diamonds. It got to the point where she would even throw the baskets in his face and storm off, only to have him come back in full force. He remembered a couple of girls telling him how she's had to lock all the doors and windows every night, how she's had to check for hidden cameras or bugs, how she's had to sleep at other dorm rooms…

Yes, Thomas really was pathetic.

One day however, he caught Thomas in the hallway, staring at a weird, ragged doll. The doll was nothing special; it had cropped blond hair with big, blue buttons for eyes. Its clothes consisted of frilly, blue overalls with a pink ribbon attached to its chest, and a black tutu at the bottom. There was glitter all over the doll, and scribbles all over its face, scribbles Alan recognized to be Thomas's handwriting.

He was utterly creeped out by how Thomas kept stroking it, whispering words of love and compassion. He held the doll near his chest, moaning with ecstasy, as while he groaned Alexis's name over and over again. Alan blinked, and slowly began backing away. What was this guy's _problem?_

When Alan turned his heel, there was a blur of black and red that sped past him, a blur Alan recognized to be Jaden.

The senior didn't look like he noticed him, so Alan sort of stopped backing away, and he slowly made his way back to the corner. There was something particularly frightening about Jaden's expression this time; he couldn't see that merciless light wrapped around the cornea of his eyes. No, it was dark and cold and desolate.

Alan slowly peeked out from the corner. He caught Jaden thrusting his arm out, waiting expectantly for some long awaited answer. "That doll isn't yours."

Thomas looked up at him, scrutinized him for a few minutes, then brushed aside his attempt. "This isn't any of your business Yuuki."

Still, Jaden never wavered. "That isn't yours. It's Alexis's, and she wants it back."

Thomas scoffed. "Yeah, I'll give it back. Tell her to be my girlfriend, then I'll give the stupid doll back."

Alan saw Thomas undoing one of the buttons, his meticulous fingers spinning away the thread's strength, before at last, it hit the floor, the sound bursting from one end of the hall to another.

Jaden's arm came back to his side, with a terrifying calm resounded from his frame. Alan could feel that demeanor stretch all the way from here. "Then how about a duel?"

"Huh?"

"Since you're so good at dueling, why don't we have a little match?"

Alan's eyes widened at the challenged, and he flinched at the sarcasm in Jaden's voice, the irony dripping off each letter. His cruel tone grabbed hold of that previously playful air, then choked it, strangled it, stole away every mirth Thomas had enjoyed.

He bit his lip; though Thomas wasn't a good student, that didn't mean he wasn't a good duelist. Alan himself didn't duel, but he's watched Richard's matches more than enough times to know that he wasn't someone Jaden could easily beat. What's more, there was talk that he was getting into Obelisk Blue, based solely on his dueling skills.

And Jaden was only in Slifer Red…

Should Alan stop the challenge? Though he was detached, Alan knew that Jaden had a reputation to uphold, both he and Alexis. If word got out that he lost to an underclassman, and that Alexis played with dolls…well, the results weren't pretty.

But some tiny voice within the depths of his mind told him not to interfere.

The voice chained Alan down from stopping the challenge, and once again, he found he was unable to move. He strained, he struggled, he did everything he was supposed to, but for some reason, just like that night, his body refused to leave that spot. That voice breathed down his neck, its sharp claws digging into his sides as it forced him there, alone. He felt like his skin was being ripped apart, the strange entity peeling away the layers one by one, until there was nothing left but bones and veins. It felt like something was sitting on his lungs, and suddenly it became so very hard to breathe. The sensation was so painful he wasn't even listening to the rest conversation.

Finally, he heard the footsteps fade from the corridors. Thomas Richard was laughing maniacally, promising the senior he was going to castrate him after his victory. Meanwhile, Jaden remained silent, his shadow growing longer and longer by the second. At last, Alan was able to move.

He never looked at the Slifer's eyes; he couldn't bear look up. A metallic sweat drop raced down his cheek, and the entirety of his body had gone cold. In that moment, Alan knew he was trapped.

Jaden stopped in front of him, that calm, eerie smile at the edge of his face. "So you heard all that?"

Alan forced himself to talk. "Y-yes…"

"I would appreciate it, if you didn't tell anyone."

"O-of course…"

"Would you like to watch the duel then?" he invited in that odd, formal tone. "The arena will be open until midnight."

"N-no." Once again, Alan held up his book, praying it would protect him from the senior's piercing gaze. "I-I have f-finals-"

"I see." Alan could hear the disappointment in his voice. He lingered a bit longer before at last, Jaden took his leave.

Alan, true to his word, never watched the duel.

* * *

The next morning, Thomas Richard was found near the lighthouse, dead.

Someone had seen him coming back to the dorms late that night, looking like zombie that had been scared out of its corpse. The lights in the kitchen came on, and at first, the student thought he was just getting a late night snack, and wondered if they could share.

Then, at that instant, Thomas Richard grabbed a butcher knife and started sawing his own arm off.

The person who saw him tried to stop him, but Thomas was so frightened he started cutting apart his abdomen, tearing away at the bits of organ and flesh. His craze was so deep, he even managed to gorge out an eye, and carve out half his face. After a brutal fight, the student called campus police, and it led to an all out search for the mad king. Eventually, they surrounded Thomas at the lighthouse, where somehow, Thomas managed to climb the ladders, and throw himself off, thereby killing himself.

Though he wasn't very well liked, his death shocked the entire Academy. The suicide was so gruesome psychiatrists were flown in constantly, keeping watch over the students' mental health to make sure they were fine. Many teachers wrote off the incident as bullying, so the Chancellor came in to lecture everyone about toleration and patience, even if the person was irritating. Alexis and Jaden were there, listening attentively to the Headmaster's ranting. Alan caught that weird ragged doll in Alexis's bag.

Classes were cancelled that day. Alan's aroused suspicions kept prodding him, jabbing their sharp knives into the depths of his brain. So he walked over to Ra yellow dormitory, with the appropriate colored police tape scattered all over the place. He weaved his way around the wrappings and went into the kitchen, where the entire incident started.

He saw a familiar silhouette emerge from the panels.

He saw Jaden, cradling Thomas's eye in his hand.

* * *

The studio was glazed with dust and neglect, with the golden lights of the sun pouring from the windows. The velvet curtains swayed in the nonexistent breeze, the hem slightly touching the melancholy of the rusted, wooden floorboards. A small bed rested near tall, Gothic window, with all its sheets, its blankets, its pillows white. There was a small table in the middle of the room with two chairs seated opposite from one another, a table that was decorated with tiny, golden fairies flying all around the sides. The table cloth sat atop, and in the center of it, three white candles, all of varying heights. Black roses entwined with the wax, the thorns interfering with the centerpiece's beauty in that very annoying way. Toward the east side of the room was a huge glass, Victorian cabinet, which housed many a doll, some from Asia, others from England and France, and yet still, from the Caribbean.

There Jaden was, at that table, with a furrowed look in his eyes, as his fingers kept sowing the blue button back into raggedy Ann's stitched face. A brown, wooden box rested near him, filled with yarn and needles. He held the doll up in that fading light, then gave a satisfied huff, closing the wooden box. He threw the doll back in Alexis's arms, who was directly behind him. He couldn't help but smile when an excited squeal erupted from her throat. "Don't lose it again," he pleaded wearily as he closed the toolkit.

The blonde shook her head. "I won't!" She walked up to him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "I still can't believe that guy had the nerve to steal this though…I even made sure that no one would find her!"

Jaden settled back in his seat. "He tore off the eye and scribbled all over her face too. That's _my_ handiwork he's messing with."

"I still can't believe you changed your mind!"

Jaden stared at her pointedly. "You kept putting dead animals in my bed."

Alexis blinked, then slowly, leaned against the table, the doll in hand. Though she had yet to apologize for her antics, he still found her quite cute, the way she pouted like that. "He got what he deserved." she mumbled angrily. "Are you going to use his eye?"

"Most likely."

"He got what he deserved," Alexis repeated.

The Slifer agreed, twirling the strands of her hair in his fingers. The two sat in that studio contently in the midst of the quiet, without a trouble in the world. After some time, Alexis asked what they were going to do about the rotting corpse near her doll collection. Jaden merely shrugged. "You've always wanted a kingdom of dolls, right?"

She nodded her head sheepishly. "Mrs. Fujioka said that if we bring in something to show for art class, she'll give us extra credit."

Jaden raised his eyes. "Wow…I still can't believe you're failing art…"

The lovers began arguing happily, as they usually did, while Alan's body sat there, that shocked expression still on its face.

* * *

Author's Note:

I do not own Yugioh GX, Yugioh 5ds, or any of the franchise.


	2. Tutor

Stephan Jackson yawned, the sleeves of his Slifer Red jacket tugging against his arm. His jet-black bangs swept easily in the front of his droopy, pale blue eyes, and his tall, lanky frame had trouble slouching over the desk. The test in front of him was mostly filled, and though he didn't feel confident, Stephan refused to look at the condemned judgement again, knowing full well he'd be lucky if he passed.

When the bell rang, he stood, looking around at the students pouring away from the classroom. He took his paper, walked down the arena, and up to Professor Banner, who was already grading the tests as is. He placed the document on top his desk and bowed briefly, before turning his heel.

"Mr. Jackson, please wait."

Stephan turned, confusion filling his features. There was, as usual, no aggression or hostility in the teacher's cat-like face, and that same, relaxing atmosphere was around him. He had his plump brown cat, Pharaoh, lying on his lap, purring at his soft touch (the claws needed to be trimmed), while rubbing his black pants happily. "Is…there something wrong sir?" he asked hesitantly.

Banner, much to his relief, shook his head. "However, you do seem to be having a bit of trouble with determining chemical reactions. Your last quiz is evident enough of this."

That same, funny accent decorated his voice, so much so Stephan had to resist the urge to laugh. But all the same, the boy knew what he was talking about. He scratched the back of his head, and laughed emptily. "Sorry. I know I failed this last test too."

"Even if you fail, you'll still be passing for the semester. Now then." Banner placed the test back on the pile of nervous documents and stood, Pharaoh now leaping desperately into his arms. "Chemical reactions are going to be on the final. If you want, I can personally help you with this."

"N-no, it's fine." Stephan chuckled nervously, hands behind his back. "I mean, I don't want to trouble you. You're a busy man, after all."

And to Stephan's shock, Banner contemplated on the statement. He put one finger on his lips, and that irritating, thoughtful look diffused across his face. "B-but I do think I still need help with that area," he managed to stutter out.

"Alright then. Why don't we arrange a tutor for you?"

"Tutor?"

"Yes. In fact, I believe you'll benefit from this. Unlike me, who is very old, the tutor will be around your age. I am very sure you will feel very relaxed around them. I know! Why don't you come by to the library tomorrow?"

"S-sir, it's fine. Really, you don't need to-"

"Then it is settled!" And with a bow, the professor left him there with that stupid smug on his face. Stephan stared after him, the humiliation already heating up his cheeks.

* * *

Stephan sat there, drumming his fingers across the desk, as he watched the clock ticking away the precious seconds wasted here.

Man, why was he even here to begin with? He could easily figure something like chemistry out, and wasn't alchemy just a pseudoscience anyways? The only thing he could possibly ever look forward to in this pit of despair was graduation, and when he finally takes over the old man's fortune and becomes a billionaire.

Which…won't happen until he graduates from this Academy.

Like any other good, stereotypical aristocrat, he hummed impatiently underneath his breath, trying so very hard not to lose whatever nerve he had left. The only reason why he was stuck in the slums to begin with was because there was a mix up in the paperwork. It'll take a month to get that stupid mess sorted out, but until then, he had to suffer for someone else's mistake. All it should've taken was one stupid phone call, and he could go all the way to Obelisk Blue.

This was so unfair.

He put his hand under his chin and dragged his eyes toward the door. Well, whoever this person was, _she'd_ better be hot, so hot he wouldn't even mind associating with her. She'd have to make him look good, and be submissive. He crossed his arms, put his feet on the desk, and shot a haughty smirk at the entrance.

There was a shadow coming from the window. Yeah, the body looked good; big boobs, long hair. Stephan narrowed his eyes, and licked his lips. He set his legs down and feigned that normal, innocent look people usually see him have. Should he take off the jacket? Nah, she'll probably have heard the situation from Banner.

He saw the door open, revealing to him the eye candy he'd been searching for. She had dark, blond hair, and creamy skin, with a tight uniform that emphasized every seductive curve. She had a small, serious smile on her face, and when she walked, she exuded the elegance every housewife should have.

Alexis Rhodes.

She sat down and greeted him in her usual, business like tone. She pulled out her books, and he did the same. She grabbed a pen or two from her bag, and immediately, claimed his attention with her beauty.

Throughout the entire session, Stephan kept watching her, not even bothering to pay a single attention to any of her words. His eyes wandered all over her uniform, and he kept giving her compliments he copied off from that Princeton guy. Just as he expected, she never complained; after all, girls liked getting compliments from guys they admire, so this was natural.

Thirty minutes later, she looked up at him with those big, soulful eyes of hers. "You know, if you don't pay attention, you're gonna get held back."

He chuckled. "Sweetheart, I assure you that's not gonna happen."

"Well, if you don't pass Banner's class you will." She narrowed her eyes and opened up another chemistry textbook, one filled with those scary-looking problems again. "There's no way around it, and it's not like we have this class in summer school."

"Like I said, no worries." Stephan stretched in that lazy way he did. He put his arm around her shoulder and tilted his head toward hers. His lips was only just a few inches from that beautiful neck, and she smelled so sweet. "Back to the chemistry…"

Stephan suddenly found a book to his lips. He blinked, then looked up at her now pretty, annoyed face. "I don't like repeating myself," she said. "If you don't pay attention, you're not going to graduate on time. Please, take that into consideration."

He returned her annoyed glare. "I already told you I'll be fine-"

"No you won't." She propped up her pen and grabbed both cheeks with steered his face toward the pages. "I've already gotten your problem figured out-"

"What the-? Who gives _you_ the right to-?"

"You messed up here."

"What?" Automatically, Stephan looked down, the black ink bleeding through the pages.

That's right, the combustion one. Stephan could never remember the products, and it was _those_ questions that frustrated him the most. It required simple memory, but he had no idea how to derive it. He was about to thrust the book away from him when he followed her pen, and found the answer written next to it.

He squinted his eyes. "W-what-?"

"It's carbon dioxide and water," she replied softly. "See, the charges equal zero now. All you have to do now is rewrite the equation, and you have your answer."

He grunted. "And how the hell do you do _that?"_

She regarded him calmly, and even smiled at his immature outburst. "You don't treat them as individual elements, but as compounds. Now the only thing you have to balance out is carbon."

Again, he looked down at the page, his eyes scanning the various questions around. Okay, so that part made sense, but what about the rest? All he did during Banner's test was screw around with letters and numbers, and hoped they came out right. He led the pen with his finger to the problem beside it. "What about this one? The one where they come together."

"Synthesis," she gently corrected. "Yeah, that one's simple. All you have to do is bring them together and balance out the charges."

"Charges?"

Instead of the one hour session Banner had planned, both Stephan and Alexis stayed there for four more hours. The questions kept coming into his mind, kept filling his brain with thoughts and answers until finally, something just…clicked. He just understood it now, to the point he was sure he could do stuff like this in his sleep.

He was incredibly tired, and his hand hurt from writing; he wasn't sure he'd ever written that much _before._ His lips parted slightly, and slowly, he turned to Alexis, trying to see if she was alright.

No, she wasn't exhausted at all; in fact, she was beaming with pride. The long hours did nothing to mar her beauty, nor did they even touch her kindness. She merely placed her hand under her chin and smirked playfully. "See what happens when you pay attention?"

That moment was probably when his obsession began.

* * *

Whenever Stephan approached her, she always said that same, wistful greeting. Sometimes, he needed help with homework, while other times, he simply came up to her to talk. They would spend hours on end just conversing with each other, to the point he would sometimes forget to go back to his own dorm.

She wasn't at all what he was used to. She was…normal, in her own, special kind of way. She was tough, but at the same time, Stephan got the impression that she was fragile. She had this blissful aura around her, a certain innocence he couldn't pinpoint, yet she herself wasn't above aligning her mistakes. She was fierce, but she was sympathetic enough to show other students the way around difficult problems. She wasn't submissive, but nor was she haughty, like all the other girls he knew. She knew full well what was going on around her, what kind of reality she was in, and though that was the place she would call home, she still chose not to participate.

She was isolated.

And he was the only one who could see that.

There was always a crowd surrounding her, drawn to her existence like he was. They were made up of all sorts of people, whether it be Obelisk Blue, Raw Yellow, or even Slifer Red. There, he couldn't even tell what social class standing they were in; they all idolized the same woman, so what difference did it make? With that kind of thinking, it was hard to get her alone.

One day, he saw her leaving class early. She'd just turned her test to Professor Banner and was one of the first to leave the room. That Princeton guy was still working, as well as the rest of her fanboys. So Stephan checked his test, turned it in, knowing full well he aced it, then sped off to meet her, ignoring all the curious, jealous glares of his male peers.

Stephan kept up his pace, tracing her shadow, when all of a sudden, he heard shouting.

He rounded the corner, only to find her being forcefully pinned to the wall by some Raw yellow jerk. She was writhing in pain as he leered toward her. She kept trying to shove him away, but all her efforts were in vain, when he started slobbering all over her neck.

Stephan yanked the guy off her. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

The commoner blinked, then slowly, he balled his fists. "This is none of your business!"

Stephan huffed and crossed his arms. He slammed the student to the floor with one foot and gave him a cruel glare. "Who do _you_ think you are, talking to _me_ like that?"

"What-?"

Stephan forced him on the ground again. " _Do you have any idea who I am?"_

It took the idiot quite some time to recognize him, but when he did, his eyes widened, and immediately, he shrunk away, almost crawling out of sight. Stephan slammed his fist against the concrete wall and sighed, trying to calm down. Slowly, he turned to Alexis and shot her a quirky smile. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine," she said softly. "Thank you for saving me."

Automatically, Stephan came to her side. "Who was that jackass anyways?"

She scoffed. "Some guy I rejected. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

"O-oh." Stephan stuffed his hands awkwardly in his pocket as she dusted herself off. She shuddered at the saliva dripping from her neck, and groaned frustratedly. "How's the test by the way? You get all the answers?"

"Yeah," he answered confidently. "He said if I could last a bit longer, I'll be able to move up to Ra Yellow."

"Good for you." Her eyes slid to the clock, much to his disappointment, and she smiled warmly at him. "I've got to get going. I'm suppose to meet someone."

"I-I'll go with you-"

"No, it's fine. You just study up for the next exam. I'll meet you in the library tonight." She grabbed her bag, and left him, waving a swift goodbye before putting her hand down. All the while, Stephan stood there, still not understanding exactly _what_ had just happened. A few seconds ago, she was attacked, but now she's just…better? She isn't even thinking about herself! Is she really _that_ reckless?

Stephan pondered on this question as he made his way back to the Slifer dorms, not even bothering to chide the building on its lackluster appearance.

* * *

Ever since that day, Stephan suffered from insomnia and night terrors, from dreams on which he was chained down while Alexis was right next to him. Something horrible would always happen to her, and her screams would reach his ears, pleading for him to come and save her, just as he did before. But no matter how hard Stephan tried, he couldn't move; something was holding him down.

From within those dreams, the shadow would grab a piece of his body, and start tugging it away. Every night, the same pattern would repeat; first was the skin, then the veins, then the muscle, then the bones, then the organs… Skeletal remnants of the creature's past victims would grab whatever was left of him, then chew everything out. He would feel their teeth his insides, scrambling his already mismatched body with pieces that never even belonged to him to begin with. The creature would pour acid all over his wounds, and the heat was so intense there were times the blood outside his body would boil.

Normally, he would wake up after that. Cold sweat would drip all over his body, while he trembled, trying to shake away the nightmare. He would spend one or two hours building up his dueling skills, or even studying, just to take his mind off the dream, then he would go back to sleep. He's even got sleeping pills locked away in his desk, in the event the nightmares became too strong.

He would always remember this one, familiar monster, who was always present within his dreams.

The monster had cool, metallic eyes, eyes that sought pain from others, eyes that saw their master in a very sick light. They were callous to every living being around them, only caring for the hellfire dancing obediently around the darkness of their pupils. When Stephan tried getting a better look, the appellation faded, and he would find himself in that same situation.

Of course, he didn't want to look insane. Even when he entered the Ra yellow dorms, and his grades started improving, and he felt that Alexis started liking him a bit more, he refused to tell anyone. Everything was in his grasp, and he wasn't going to let his own mind steal it all away from him.

However, it changed one afternoon. He was an hour early for the tutoring session, so Stephan decided to walk around a bit. The day was so peaceful, and there weren't any morons around to ruin the moment. He took a deep breath and delved deep into his thoughts. He was even starting to daydream a bit, when all of a sudden, once again, he heard Alexis's soft, fairy-like voice.

A wide smile spread across his face, and immediately, he started off toward her direction.

Then he saw him.

Jaden Yuuki.

Stephan rapidly hid behind the nearby bushes, catching the two in his line of sight. If he remembered correctly, Yuuki was always that stupid, happy, annoying guy, right? There was nothing special about him; brown hair, brown eyes, a total dork when it came to school; he was a freshman, and he didn't have a lot of friends. Still, the guy was legendary, considering he managed to take down Crowler's Ancient Gear Golems, and how he beat the Duel Giant all on his own. No wonder why Alexis was around a guy like him. It looked like she was enjoying herself, even.

But for some reason, Jaden had this irritated frown on his mouth. That lively personality Stephan would usually see in class was completely shattered, and in its stead, this…person was here. There was a melancholic attitude about him this time, and a slow, burning anger that made Stephan cringe, all of which were directed towards Alexis.

Alexis…he'd never seen her like this before. Compared to how she was with everyone else, and with _him_ , of all people, she was just so…so uptight. With Yuuki, her guard was down, and everything about her was revealed, right there in that moment. It frustrated him even more since he couldn't even hear their conversation.

Just then, his eyes and Jaden's met.

The shock stole down his body.

Stephan recognized his eyes. Those very same eyes, that tormented Alexis so miserably in his dreams, that shadow, that looked so familiar. Even now, he couldn't tear himself away from Jaden's eyes, the malice tearing him apart bit by bit, with each bone crunching beneath hid footsteps, the corpses in that decadent graveyard dragging Stephan down into the very depths of the abyss. He could recall every sensation he felt from those nights, every pill he's had to swallow to keep the inevitable away for just a little longer.

Then, Jaden shrugged. He simply turned away, leaned in, and kissed Alexis.

* * *

It was that very desperation that led Stephan here, to the ballroom hidden within the abandoned dorms. Though it was ruined, the elegance granted to it from long ago remained intact. The gossamer curtains looked like they'd been cleaned fairly recently, and the brilliant shine from the checkered tiles on the floors gave the impression that there must've been a party somewhere nearby. Unlike Ra or Obelisk, the ballroom here had no windows, and since everything else was so musty looking, the crisp details added to the creepiness of the atmosphere. Spiderwebs decorated almost every corner of the ceiling, and the fine balconies overhead gave him the impression that someone was watching him.

Especially at night.

Warily, he looked up, and tried vainly to bring up his pompous pride once more, only to fail time and time again. He was trembling, though he had nothing to fear, and the scene was in broad daylight; even if Jaden tried something, there was no way Stephan would let that… _slacker_ get to him. Just because something happens in your mind doesn't mean they happen in reality.

So why?

Why did he bring _that?_

He clenched his fists and tried to calm himself. He could've succeeded too, if not for a loud, "SUP!" surprising him, causing him to jump a few feet in the air. Stephan turned, and saw Jaden standing there, in his normal facade, acting as he would around other classmates. Stephan narrowed his eyes, and turned to the boy. That's right; he was Ra and the flunky was Slifer. There was no way…no way at all…

"So…you need something?" Jaden asked in a friendly manner. His voice bounced off the walls, the sound vibrating through Stephan's ear. "I mean, if you wanna have some fried shrimp-"

"Alexis Rhodes."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Stephan flinched, but still, he refused to recognize his conjectures were wrong. "You're dating Alexis Rhodes, right?"

Jaden stared at him for a few moments, as if trying to process what he was saying. Finally, he disagreed. "No. We're just friends."

"I saw you guys the other day-"

"Yeah. If you want, I can take you to Chazz-"

"You kissed."

Jaden, once again, decided to play dumb. "That's a bit much. You know," he continued, taking a step forward, "if you're that curious, you can always go ask Alexis."

"Just…just shut up…"

Jaden took another step toward him. Stephan looked up, and saw that same, hazy darkness forming in his eyes. "Bro…hey, what's wrong…? Hey! What are you-?!"

"I SAID JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!"

By the time Stephan came to, the knife somehow disappeared from his hands, and wound up in Jaden's throat.

* * *

Thankfully, there was no blood on him, and the prospect made it easy to get into the greenhouse and steal some gloves and tools. When he got back to the ballroom, Jaden's body was still there, the light already faded from his evil eyes. Stephan kept panting, taking out the tools one by one and laying them out in front of him. He put on the gardening gloves, his brain replaying those nightmarish scenes over and over again, trying to delude himself from the raging relief fro that jealousy he felt before. He turned to the body, grabbed the knife, and started taking off the head.

One by one, each part came off. First the arms, then the legs, then the torso. Stephan proceeded to hack them into tinier pieces, taking off fingers, arteries. He kept asking himself _what ifs, what ifs, what ifs,_ and soon, he was indulging in separating the entire body. The stomach, liver, intestines, pancreas, all of which were taken out meticulously. He breathed heavily, reciting those simplistic chemical equations obediently in his head, all the while stuffing the parts somewhere around the abandoned dorms, somewhere where even if someone decided to come in and investigate, there'd be no way they'd find the body.

Stephan looked down at himself, and sighed. "Look at what you did," he said softly. "Lexi isn't gonna be happy if she sees me like this."

All the remorse he initially felt before had now evaporated. He made sure no one was around, before gathering all the tools, and leaving the dorms, the relief coursing through his veins.

The next morning, everyone was wondering where Jaden was. His friends kept saying he never came back to the dorms, nor did they know where he was going, or who he was meeting. There was a lot of talk of search parties being sent out for him, backed by many concerned students and teachers.

But it was so strange; it was like he simply vanished.

Meanwhile Stephan felt well-rested, and was ready to do anything; that Slifer eyesore had disappeared, and the paperwork had finally been sorted out. Tomorrow, he was gonna get to go to Obelisk Blue and be with Alexis Rhodes for the remainder of his high school career. He was gonna get that fortune, and all his troubles will soon be over.

Nothing could make him any happier.

After class, Alexis ran up to him, her bright eyes shining down on Stephan's tainted ones. She clutched her books near her chest, and acted in that cute little way she did whenever she was with Jaden. "Congratulations!" she said softly. "Looks like you'll be moving on!"

"Y-yeah. Thanks to you, anyways."

"Anyways, to celebrate, why don't you come to the gazebos? Tonight at eight."

Again, Stephan was reduced to that stuttering boy, who always gazed at the girl he loved from afar. No, that didn't matter now. _He_ was out of the way, so she was safe; they can live happily ever after now, right? Sill, he had no voice, so he nodded dumbly.

She kissed him on the cheeks before running off.

* * *

The gazebo was absolutely stunning, a perfect scene for a knight and his princess.

The lake it resided above was pure white, with hints of dark and light blue coming together to form a neat horizon. Yellow, radiant tulips dotted the soft, flowing grass, and the benevolent winds kept up its rhythmic movements. The silver wind chimes reflected the moon's romantic light, and the candles in the middle of the table were decorated with red roses and amaryllises, making the scene look even more enchanting. There was a wooden, ornate table set up in the middle of the gazebo, with two silver chairs entwining with its structures. Toward his left was a large swing that was big enough to hold two people. Vines swirled along the poles, clinging to its dark elegance in spite of their clumsy naiveté.

Stephan stood there for a little, a slight blush across his cheeks. He was wearing his yellow blazer, along with his faded blue jeans. He slowly took his seat. Though he tried to appear calm and lethargic, his heart was pounding, and his head kept looking for things to say in front of her, predicting whatever the conversation would turn into. Was she here just to congratulate him? Would she talk about Jaden? Was she going to ask him about his whereabouts?

Why was Stephan even here?

He perked up when those familiar footsteps sounded from across the bridge. Alexis stood there, in her normal outfit, carrying two bottled waters and a lighter. The blush already on his face began to deepen. "W-what's all this…?"

She looked up at him curiously. "What? Don't you want to see at least? We can't rely on the moon alone."

"O-oh…" Stephan scratched his head, all the while kicking himself for being so stupid. However, Alexis didn't look like she noticed, so he continued on, as if nothing ever happened. "So…what are you gonna do over the summer?"

She lit the candles in front of them, the warmth landing on his face with perfect accuracy. "I have plans to visit England with my friends."

"I-I hope you…have a good time," he finished lamely.

"Thank you." She settled back in her seat and unscrewed the lid. She wasted no time giving him his bottle as well. There was a tiny black sharpie dot on the lid, and when he looked up, she giggled adorably. "Sorry. I'm a bit of a klutz when it comes to meds."

Stephan blinked. "You need medicine?"

"Y-yeah. I've got a lot of bad allergies this season, so I have to make sure I take them."

Stephan eased, and unscrewed his lid. "I get what you mean. I've got to do the same damn thing."

Alexis chuckled, and took a sip. So did he; she looked so lovely in the low light, but he didn't want to come off as some sort of pervert. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

Her melodic voice reached his ears. "Sure."

"If someone you really love was hurt by someone else, what would you do to that person?"

"Need you ask? If someone ever hurt you, I'd pummel them to the ground!"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you love me then?"

That question…really caught him off guard. Stephan felt the heat flush across his cheeks, and slowly, he turned away from her. He gripped his bottle tightly, and looked down at the water's surface. His nerves were getting in the way, and his throat constricted to the point he couldn't say anything, but finally, he managed to nod. "I-I do."

Much to his surprise, she had no reaction. She only regarded him so vey calmly, just as she had the first day they met. Cautiously, he stared at her, at the dazed look in her eyes. What was going on, in that pretty little head of hers right now? Did she even hear what he just said? "So you'd give them hell, if someone hurt me?"

An image of Jaden swept across his mind, and automatically, his protective instincts kicked in. "Of course I would!" He became defensive. "I…I love you Alexis! I won't let anything bad happen to you!"

"I see." With one movement, she stood from her seat and walked toward him, the water bottle still in her hand. She stopped and leaned over, her face a few inches away from his. "You said that, right?" she sang quietly. "You said that if anyone ever hurt me, you'd give them hell?"

"Y-yeah, I would."

"Really?" Slowly, she lifted her water bottle, and gave him a slow, seductive smile. She leaned forward a bit, to the point where her breath trickled down his neck. The tip touched his lips, and before he knew it, the water filled his mouth. The lid disappeared before Stephan could make any sense of what was happening.

She slipped from his grasp and grabbed the lighter from the table. "Then would you mind doing me a favor?" she asked, with that same, cool expression. "Would you give yourself hell?"

Stephan was about to ask why, when all of a sudden, his vision became blurry. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what was going on. His pulse was speeding up, and when he tried to stand, he collapsed onto the ground; his legs refused to move, no matter what he told them. There was a burning, searing pain all over his body. Help. He needed to call for help.

Suddenly, bright lights appeared all around him, along with the smell of burning flesh dancing around his nostrils.

* * *

"Botulinum toxin, huh?"

Alexis nodded proudly, as she started counting on her fingers the various heavy metals incorporated into Jackson's body. "I included a bit of hemlock and arsenic, along with my antipsychotics."

"Which, might I add, are not working, it would seem."

She gave Jaden a small, adorable smile, and plopped herself next to him on her bed while he examined the tiny medicine bottle. He was lying down, still trying to recover from the surprise attack, the scars evident on his neck. She turned toward him, before looking back and laughing to herself. "Just admit it; you wanted him gone too, right?"

Jaden flickered his dark eyes toward her, before sighing. "You know, I knew he was unstable. I didn't think he was _that_ serious though. I suppose we can't use him to make another doll now, can we?"

Her smile faded as she stretched her legs, lying right beside him then. "He's ugly," she muttered.

"Well, of course. You just burned him alive."

"You think he's still conscious?"

Jaden shook his head. "I've no idea. It's been three days, hasn't it? His body composition is already starting to break down. You've only got five more days before he dies altogether."

"Well," she buried herself in his now healed neck, curling herself into a tight ball at Jaden's side, "I've still got time." She lifted her head a bit, to the point where she could meet his eyes, and smirked. "What?" he asked.

"It was you, wasn't it? You gave him the nightmares, right?"

Jaden grunted painfully, before managing to lay on his side, one arm on Alexis's waist. "I did. What of it?"

"He had a hard time concentrating because of you; he was always dozing off whenever I started talking. What a rude thing to do!"

"He shouldn't have set his eyes on you then."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Didn't I win that challenge?"

And somewhere, from afar, there was a dying plea for someone, anyone to come and save him. To this day, students still believed it was just some random ghost that suddenly wandered on campus.


	3. Languages

There was a foreign magazine reporter coming to Duel Academy.

Professor Crowler wanted the Academy's Top Obelisk Blue to come and show the man around, since, of course, she was "the pinnacle of dualists everywhere, in both beauty and intelligence." More than likely this was just another one of Crowler's career moves, but frankly, that didn't matter. The school was going to get more publicity, and as a result, more sponsorships and funding for its academic programs. Now, normally, Alexis would've been happy, albeit hesitant, to do this little request. No one could deny the fact that she was intelligent, and that she could pull this translator stunt off without any problems, since the photographer didn't know how to speak English.

Except she didn't know his language.

Which was why she came to her lover after that particular moment to ask for his help.

He was wearing his normal black jeans that day, with a skull t-shirt adorning his body. The black iPod was in his hands, and his expression was actually quite peaceful before she came along. When he saw her approaching with that same, idiotic look on her face, he gave her a very dark scowl, and gripped the poor music player tightly, so much so it could've broken at any time.

S _he must've gotten herself into another mess,_ was his first thought.

She rushed up to him, panting heavily. He leaned over, trying to see what she had to say. Finally, she mustered up her courage, and said, "Teach me Spanish."

It took Jaden a few moments to process her request. "What?"

"Professor Crowler said the foreigner spoke Spanish. He's coming in a week, and I have no idea what to say to him!"

Jaden stared at her for a moment. "Bastion?"

"He doesn't know it."

"Jesse?"

"Away."

"Professor Rosalia?"

"Sexual assault charges."

After going through nearly everyone on the list, Jaden narrowed his eyes, and wondered if she actually risked her reputation and asked them all. To his utter shock, she did, but subtly, to the point where they never even knew she asked for their help at all.

Well, at the very least she knew how to act. Finally, he sighed, and tucked the iPod away in his pocket. He turned to her with serious eyes, held both her hands, and asked, "You're sure it's Spanish?"

"I am."

"Crowler's not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"He heard him talk."

"How long until this guy arrives?"

She smiled in that cute little way of hers, and, unknowingly, Jaden relaxed.

"A week."

* * *

It was a very grueling, intense, _frustrating_ week.

No, the statement didn't pertain to Jaden or Alexis. Alexis, as usual, was a quick learner and a good study; whatever conjugations or stem changes Jaden threw at her, she managed to get the correct answer. Whenever they were together, her accent would immediately change to fit that of a native Spanish speaker's; her tongue rolled off at the right places, and even as they sat there, in that lone, random classroom, reading those long winded passages well off into the night, she managed to pronounce every word correctly. Though her writing was still a bit shaky, and there were plenty of times she misinterpreted the conversations Jaden had so neatly laid out for her, for the most part, she did well.

What was so frustrating were the constant onlookers.

Learning a new language in a week was not an easy task, even for Alexis, so there were plenty of times both she and Jaden had to miss class to practice. Textbooks, novels, and worksheets would be scattered everywhere around them, along with flashcards that made no sense whatsoever. Oftentimes, their fast tongues made students and teachers alike think they were going insane. When Jaden was waking the poor girl up from a very brief nap, there were jealous admirers hiding within the shadows, trying to decipher what exactly he was saying to her. Jaden had lost count of how many death threats he's received over the days, warning him to stay away from their "future wife", or challenging him to a duel for Alexis's hand (she thought his problem was hilarious, earning her four more hours of conjugation worksheets and twelve persuasive essay topics).

A very troubling situation came from Syrus, a small, blue-haired boy with round spectacles and a fragile build, and "the Sarge", an African American student with huge muscles and a military-like disposition. Well, Jaden did have to admit that he had this problem coming; he'd been playing the academic ass for so long the character was ingrained in everyone's minds. Both of whom had never even _seen_ him crack open a book, much less read from it.

It all happened in the span of one night, in the Slifer Red dorms. Jaden was sitting at his desk, in that ruined, comfortable room, twirling a pencil in his fingers, thinking about how Alexis was doing on her assignments, while Syrus was on the ground, staring up at him with suspicious eyes. Sarge was there as well, with the same look on his face. It took a while for Jaden to notice them, and when he did, he gave them a warm smile. "What is it?"

Syrus was the first to speak up. "You've been with Alexis lately…you know that, right?"

He nodded, the lie smoothly rolling off his tongue. "I needed help with something. Don't worry about it."

Syrus blinked. "You're not gonna tell us?"

"Spanish," Jaden answered. "My cousin's wedding is coming up, and I've got no idea how to speak it. So Alexis has been helping me."

Sarge crossed his arms over his chest. A contemplative expression dominated his face, and Jaden's eye twitched irritatingly, though it was for a brief moment.

There were times he found them amusing, entertaining, and he did grow a bit fond of them over the months, though he would never admit it. Still, that brief moment of camaraderie faded when the man mentioned her many reactions to the tribulations Jaden laid in front of her. "I don't know Jay. Looks like _she's_ the one playing the brave soldier."

"I'm just glad she's putting up with me. That's all."

Syrus squinted his eyes. "And from the rumors, it looks like you know what you're doing."

"Yeah well, now I do."

"And what's with the textbooks you keep giving her? And all the paperwork?" Syrus kept pressing.

"Just…turning in homework," Jaden said happily, before returning to whatever thoughts he was thinking of. He was just about to snap that pencil when they both asked, quite astonishingly, he might add, "You do homework?"

* * *

Another very annoying moment happened with Chazz, who kept eyeing Jaden ever so conspicuously. The envy in his eyes was so painfully obvious Jaden wasted no time ignoring it (again, Alexis was laughed her butt off). After all, his confrontation was so mundane, trivial, and bountiful, that Jaden had already perfected the art of blissful ignorance. However, that technique was shattered when Chazz stormed up to him in, once again, the Slifer Red Dorms.

Jaden was impressed with the downgraded aristocrat that day; he was calm, collected, unlike the majority of the year, and he was very mature when it came to matters like love, though he had no experience himself. Jaden was, in fact, about to address him in a very bright, bubbly manner, when all of a sudden, Chazz took his collar, almost choked him, and screamed, "HOW COULD YOU?!"

Jaden blinked, his own personality resurfacing. "What?"

"YOU KNEW I LIKED HER! YOU KNEW IT!" The tears were comically pouring from his eyes. Jaden could practically see the man's already broken heart crumbling to dust, as he tried picking himself back up, only to fail so very miserably. "How could you…?" he muttered pitifully. "How could you…?"

Jaden groaned inwardly, and crouched down, to where his brown, murderous eyes met Chazz's steel grey ones. He smiled. "What are you talking about?"

"EVERYONE'S TALKING ABOUT IT!" Chazz screamed, causing Jaden to jump backwards. The killing intent suddenly diffused into the room as the teen stood, swaying around like an insane person. He pointed an accusatory finger at Jaden, and continued on with the unfair, makeshift trial. "About how you and Alexis are _dating?_ Any of _that_ ring a bell _slacker?"_

 _"_ H-hold on Chazz," Jaden said, putting his hands in front of him, trying to make himself look like the pacifist everyone believed he was. He, in all honesty, was _this_ close to maiming the Chazz. No, scratch that; he'd been that close a long time ago, though he can't remember when. "Alexis and I aren't dating. She's just helping me learn Spanish. That's all."

"You expect me to believe that pack of lies?!"

"Honest," Jaden continued softly, approaching the boy carefully. "My cousin's wedding is coming up, and I don't know how to talk with her husband. So I asked for Alexis's help."

Chazz blinked. "I didn't know you were hispanic."

"My aunt remarried two years ago…so now it's her daughter's turn…"

"Ha!" Chazz suddenly turned his back, and, in some illusionistic fashion, turned back again to Jaden, placed both hands on his shoulders, and shouted, "You pathetic slacker! You don't even _need_ Alexis's help with Spanish! I know the language like I know my Ojamas!"

"Sounds…promising…"

The boy didn't even hear the sarcasm in Jaden's voice. He simply dragged him into the dorm's cafeteria, sat him down, and began spouting gibberish nonsense Jaden could hardly make any sense of. By the time the two were done, Chazz looked so very proud of himself, crossing his arms haughtily, and asked Jaden if he learned anything.

Jaden looked up darkly, and everyone in the room shivered at his raging agony. "You don't want me to answer that," he hissed.

* * *

At long last, the fateful day came.

Alexis stood beside Jaden, as did Syrus and the Sarge, who were both trying to catch a glimpse of the foreigner. Chazz was somewhere, trying to prepare his latest attempts to advance to the upper dorms. Crowler was there too, giving Alexis a last minute pep talk of how she should act, of how Obelisks should act, all the while tossing Jaden a seething look, before promptly turning away. Without anyone looking, Jaden squeezed her hand and gave her a small smile. "Ready?"

She gave him that same, determined look she had from all the days prior. "Yeah."

"Here he comes."

The private yacht sailed up to the docks. The sails went down as the man came out from underneath. He had sleek, black hair, and very dark, tan skin. He wore a regular t-shirt, the sunglasses clinging to his collar, and designer jeans that gave both Jaden and Alexis the impression that he was trying to make the pure bloods feel welcome, which was a very smart thing. His shoes were normal, and from the look on his face, the reporter seemed very nervous. Then again, Alexis was too.

Slowly, Alexis's hand slipped from Jaden's, as she went down to greet him. Jaden clearly remembered the confidence on her face, the gears in her mind turning at full force. She stopped in front of him, and recited her first words, all of which Jaden had taught her. He couldn't help but smile a bit, knowing she earned that moment there, in the spotlight. He also took pride in the fact that he taught her more in a week than Crowler could possibly ever teach her in a year.

He felt Syrus tugging at his sleeve, and he looked down, never once taking his eyes off Alexis's mouth. "Hey Jay?"

"What's wrong?" he whispered back.

"Is Alexis okay?"

Jaden tore his eyes away, and smiled at the young, curious boy. "She's doing beautifully."

"Um…really?"

Jaden only had to look up to see her blanched, sick face.

Crowler never noticed, because he was too busy flourishing his grandiose movements toward the school. The Sarge was too far to see, and Chazz still wasn't here. Jaden frowned and walked over to see what was wrong. Confusion kept pouring words at the edge of his tongue, trying to figure just exactly what had gone awry.

"Alexis, what's-?"

Then he heard it.

His eyes widened.

Hurriedly, Jaden took Alexis's wrist and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He took a deep breath, and gave the foreigner that same, childlike smile he gave everyone. _"Sir?"_

 _"_ _Ah!"_ the reporter squeaked. _"I-I'm very sorry. She just came up to me, and started saying all these things-"_

 _"_ _No, it's alright."_ Jaden said kindly, protectively shielding Alexis with his own body. _"There was just a bit of misunderstanding. I understand, though, that you're here for a magazine shoot?"_

The reporter nodded eagerly, holding up his camera in all the excitement. Well, at least his ordeal was over. _"Yes! I wanted to do an exclusive scoop. I hear Duel Academy is affiliating itself with Cambridge University's business program. Is that right?"_

Jaden led the reporter away from the yacht, with Alexis trailing behind. _"That's right. I'll take you to the Chancellor right now. He'll answer your questions."_

As he and the reporter continued discussing, Jaden shot Alexis an apologetic look, along with an unreadable expression that only she could decipher. She nodded, then came to Syrus and the Sarge and immediately took their minds off the very strange scene.

Throughout the day, Crowler attempted to ask Jaden what was going on, and why he suddenly replaced Alexis as the prized translator. Shepherd wondered the same thing, but decided to leave it be; as long as things were taken care of, the switch was fine.

* * *

Jaden was called into Crowler's office the very next day.

It wasn't a very pleasant conversation to begin with, nor did Jaden have any patience that day. He rapped his fingers along his leg while Crowler recited his resilient rant. At last, the teacher decided to give Jaden a month's detention before sending him off to the "dumps with the other Slifer Slackers."

"Professor…" Jaden began. "What language was the reporter speaking in?"

Crowler blinked, and with that same, stupid look, stated, "Spanish."

Chazz…couldn't even _compare_ with this man's utter _lack_ of knowledge. Crowler was a dimwitted, idiotic teacher who had absolutely _no sense_ of culture, but he was so sheltered that he actually managed to mix up two languages, both of whom sounded _completely and utterly different from one another._ It was bad enough Crowler proved himself to be this way, but on top of that, he managed to embarrass _Alexis_ as well, who had worked incredibly hard for this opportunity.

He made her look like a complete fool.

Jaden stood, walked to Crowler's desk, and slammed his hands down. "Professor…" he muttered murderously, his fingernails digging into the surface of the desk.

Crowler mockingly leaned forward. "Huh? What was that? I'm sorry? _Cat got your tongue?"_

Jaden snapped.

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU CONFUSE RUSSIAN WITH SPANISH?!"


	4. Story

Alexis yawned lazily, stretching her arms across the bed as she stared up at the ceiling. Her brown, enigmatic eyes drifted easily from one corner to the other, unsure of whether or not she should even be lying here right now, since she was unable to comprehend the differences between progress and sleep. Her blond hair was messily sprawled across the covers, with her body positioned in that awkward manner most people would find uncomfortable, even when the illumination of her skin emphasized her voluptuous body. Her head turned sideways, gazing at the brown, wooden desk in front of her, not even beginning to realize the tight deadline she was on for those pesky homework assignments.

Ah well; she had a few more hours left, right? Plenty of time.

As the evening skies cleared from her eyes, the waning sun slipping further and further from Duel Academy's blissful atmosphere, her pupils began wandering about, examining the contents in her unfamiliar room. Her new, white uniform, with light blue outlines etched across the edges, hung on a hanger that was situated on the door. The desk lamp she had, the one with silly, anime stickers dotted here and there, was callously thrown away and in its place, a boring, plain one, though of course, the ornate, original decorations were beautiful. The new, renovated carpets felt irritable underneath her feet; she winced whenever she walked on the ground. The large, rounded windows didn't really help her much either, considering the fact that every time she walked into her bedroom, she felt like she was being watched by someone.

So this was the new white dorm, huh?

Outside, there was music, with the lively procession of shadows dancing on her empty wall. Vivacious conversations took place just outside, and from the looks of things, laughter and fulfillment as well. She recognized that odd, stupid-looking frame Sartorius gave off, as well as "the Chazz" who was, as of this point, following the man around like a loyal slave. The outdoor party going on seemed like an ostentatious display of power and wealth, the two things Alexis couldn't help but detest in this world, all the while masking itself under the guise of a friendly, academic get-together. She'd only been here a couple of weeks and already she was getting bored.

Again, she yawned, and tried sitting up, only for the fatigue to claim her body and pull her right back down. She blinked, unwilling to move herself from her original position. What a pain.

Then she heard a knock on the door. "Alexis?" an unrecognizable student said through the door. "Alexis, you okay?"

She mumbled, and put her hand across her eyes. If she pretended to be asleep, they'd leave her alone. Probably.

"Alexis?"

"Dude," another voice whispered. "Cut it out; she's won a lot of duels today."

"Y-yeah, but-"

"We'll explain to Chazz that she's just not up to it."

The tense moments passed before finally, the student agreed, allowing Alexis to sleep in for as long as she wanted to. She smiled at the thought, and continued on her everlasting quest for that prized reward of slumber. She rubbed her eyes, and attempted again, this time, not thinking of anything in particular.

As the moon took center stage, and the party outside got crazier and crazier, Alexis began pondering on whether or not she should've joined. Her nails dug into the sheets, her solemn mind endeavoring to think of something that could take it off the dull, dull air around her. She placed her hands on her stomach and sighed.

What were Mindy and Jasmine doing right now? How about Syrus, or the Sarge, or even Atticus? And that new kid, Aster? Were they all getting along well? Were they eating alright? Were they acting like they were supposed to, what with that "saving-the-world" nonsense and such? She resisted the urge to call them, and instead, began mentally ranting her frustrations at the very ambitions who put her here in the first place.

This was the _worst_ plan ever.

She heard the door unlock, and slothfully, she turned, her neck cracking at the slightest pressure of movement. Carefully, it creaked open before shutting again, the silhouette calmly approaching her like a phantom from her past. He sat at the edge of her bed, and gave her a small smile. "So…how're you doing?"

"Bite me," she mumbled, causing Jaden to chuckle softly. He stroked her cheek gently, and like an utter fool, she succumbed his touch, tilting her head slightly toward his warmth. It only took a few seconds for her to finally groan, the complaints building to an unhealthy throbbing in the back of her head.

"I hate this."

"It was your idea, remember?" he reminded playfully.

"I didn't think it'd take this long."

"Well, what'd you expect? Bring the Society down in three days? Be more realistic than that."

"Chazz is a pain in the butt," she countered.

He smirked. "You let yourself lose, I recall. You even texted me a few nights before the big duel to rig your deck."

"And all for what? For some stupid power?"

" _You_ were the one getting involved, not me." He stood and went to the windows, looking at all the festivities going on below. There was an awful lot of screaming for a calm, collected, psychotic bunch such as this; was there another lynching, or perhaps another student falling to the hands of the Society of Light? The events have gotten so commonplace now Alexis never bothered watching them anymore. "The Light of Destruction, I believe you called it?" he continued.

She pouted her lips. "It sounded fun."

"More fun than your precious Annabelle doll?"

Alexis narrowed her eyes. "I heard that if you take control of it, you can bring to life whatever comes to your mind. Nightmares, dreams, illusions, anything at all." She sat up then, a brilliant burst of energy flowing through her system. "You can even bring back the dead, if you wanted to."

A brief frown flashed on Jaden's expression, with a quiet, resonating pain she knew they both were still trying to get over. It was that longing Alexis shared, a tiny moment of desperation that the two can recall from long ago. They both stared at one another, and Alexis could see him wondering whether to carry out this stupidity of hers, or disregard it altogether. That's right; even with a tool as tainted as the Light of Destruction, you can bring back something that was once so very, very pure and monstrous, in all the ways you can imagine. All the same, the result was more than likely determined by the very environment surrounding them here.

He went back to his quiet onlooking. "That'd be nice."

Sadly, she agreed. "And if that doesn't work, there's always Yubel's power we can rely on."

Jaden gave her a very dark scowl. "That kid died a long time ago. I doubt any of it's left, even on this island."

"As long as they're experimenting with it, Yubel should still be here. After all," her eyes flickered up at him, the teasing bordering on some hidden, unknown malice, "you did toy with it once, right?"

He never looked at her, though she could practically see his shoulders shaking from the humor. "Jealous?"

She scoffed. "As if."

"What about darkness? Would you use that too?"

"Your call."

Jaden returned to his little activity, mercilessly picking out all the details there were so neatly displayed in front of him. He held his hand to his mouth, his analytical eyes beginning to sort out all the details necessary for the Society's humiliation, their condemnation. She could see his vision, the stakes and hearths already ready, with the nooses eagerly crying out for their next victim. The priests were there, proclaiming some judgement that had no basis other than cold, calculated motives and vulnerable emotions. The first of the contractees were there, ready and waiting for their deaths to come, sailing the rivers to the Gates of Archeon.

Finally, he broke the silence. "This _is_ a bit boring."

"I've been trying to sleep for the past two hours. But those idiots down there aren't letting me."

Jaden turned to her amusingly. "You're not going to dance?"

"That's something Chazz made up on his own. I've got nothing to do with it."

"That's the spirit," he said, as he walked to her bookshelf, tracing the spines with the tip of his finger. Alexis looked up at him curiously. "What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn't you be with Syrus and the others?" A very disturbing thought suddenly occurred to her, and she half glared at him with anxious eyes. "You know, if you aren't gonna do _your_ part, the whole thing will come crashing down."

He took down a book and opened it, examining the contents with that same, nostalgic look on his face. "I have no idea why you want to portray me as the hero so badly. If you're looking for a knight in shining armor, I'm sure Sartorius would be more than happy to oblige."

Alexis shook her head, pulling her knees to her chest. "No way. He's supposed to be the villain of this fairytale. Just think about it; you and Aster, teaming up to take the wicked witch down. You save the world, receive all that adoring praise, then continue on with your life like nothing ever happened."

Jaden furrowed his eyebrows. " And when am I suppose to save the damsel in distress?

"Before you face off against the Big Bad, of course."

"No one's that idealistic. Or charismatic, for that matter."

"But it _does_ intrigue you, doesn't it?"

"A bit. But what does it matter? You've already planned this for the Yubel incident, haven't you?"

Alexis looked up with serious eyes, firmly set on her goals. "We don't know until we try, right? I mean, it's not fair for her to stay with those ugly maggots. They might even be chewing her eyes out, for all we know."

Jaden shut the book and placed it back on the shelf. "Not an ideal end, but isn't that where we'll all end up some day?" He took down another book, a title it appears he recognized, and began making his way back to Alexis. He sat down next to her, the crimson rays now replaced by some sick, pathetic artificial light shimmering from the outside. She placed her head on his lap, taking in his soft strokes, which were now making their way through her hair. "The coven's going to break up sooner or later. In all honesty, this is kind of like chasing some wayward fairytale."

"Life's kind of like a fairytale though." she grumbled stubbornly.

He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's that wishful thinking that's going to get you killed some day. By the way." Out of the corner of her eyes, Alexis saw a book dragging itself toward her, the cover neatly placed on top of her head. She heard Jaden turning the pages melancholically, never ceasing his fragile touch. "You still have this book?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

"Remember?" She looked up at him. "It's the first story she ever shared with the two of us. Granted, it's not realistic, but it's better than nothing."

"You even highlighted some of the passages?"

She giggled quietly. "Akiza was always a bit of an actor."

She felt his eyes scanning the pages, pinpointing words of which the former coven leader would make out happily, bringing some entertainment into their lives. Alexis would be lying somewhere, whether that be on the floor, or some mangled corpse, or on Jaden's lap, or even on Akiza, while Jaden would be sitting somewhere else, listening intently to her words. Her soft, fiery hair would elegantly drape all over her soft, motherly face, as she read aloud the story, which was then gesturing wildly from hand to hand. Sometimes, she would read it dully, so that she could lull the two lovers to sleep, while other times, she would simply act out the story from where she was seated, so that they could enjoy her performance to the fullest. And yet still, there'd be times when she didn't have to read at all; she would just throw the book at the two and scream playfully for them to read it themselves, to get a feel of how dependent they actually were on her, both mentally and emotionally.

Jaden heaved a heavy breath. "Where is he, by the way?"

Alexis clutched his leg tightly, reminiscing on how robotic their Gardener had become right after her death. "I haven't heard any word from him."

"He's probably enjoying himself, by the looks of things." Alexis could hear the sarcasm oozing from his voice, and though he didn't want to admit, she knew full well his thoughts and emotions. Jaden missed his brother, who was now the new leader of the Black Rose coven.

She stretched again, and smiled sweetly. "Liar."

Jaden stared down at her, lifting the book from her head. "What?"

"Nothing." She curled herself into a tiny ball, trying to get a little closer to the warmth seated beside her, when her attention, once again, turned to the outside world. They must be having a good time, if they were _that_ annoying, right?

A shame then.

She looked up to Jaden happily. "Can you read that story again?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Will it help you sleep?"

"Promise. No more stories after that."

He sighed, knowing full well she was lying. However, he resigned to her request and began reading. "The Juniper Tree," he began.

* * *

The Chazz was feeling high and mighty. He kept flourishing his arms like he always does, declaring his rule amongst the sovereigns, his reign mightier than any other, his kingdom delving in riches unknown. His pride was inflated, as usual, and with Sartorius's help.

Aside, of course, from the fact that Alexis, who was sleeping, wasn't coming down here per his order, he was still the most wonderful person in the world; he was letting her _sleep,_ for crying out loud, which meant he was more than just a gentleman. He was better than Jaden then, in every possible way; the Slifer couldn't even bring himself to join such an exquisite club. What a waste.

Beside him, Sartorius was chatting with the other students, cautiously waving his wine glass around, reflecting everyone standing before and behind him. Their smiling faces were what kept Chazz going, and considering the very moment that everyone, at this point, looked up to him, his popularity soared. And suddenly, it was just impossible for him to fail…at practically anything. There was nothing he couldn't do alone, that he was everyone's hero, that _he_ was the one destined for greatness, not _Aster. He_ alone had the right to wield such authority, authority that Sartorius so graciously deigned upon him.

He felt like a king.

However, there was this one person who sullied his majesty, that one, _irritating_ person who kept stumbling around the place, trying to get their minds off of whatever was wrong with them. Well, why shouldn't she settle for someone else? If her boyfriend refused to join the Society of Light, then she should just dump him and start over! Not with the Chazz of course; he needed to be with all the beautiful people. Still, there was that uncomfortable, tug of compassion he felt in his chest, so he climbed down from the stage and made his way toward her.

Diana Aliyev was an exchange student who came all the way from St. Petersburg in Russia. She had light brown hair that bounced whenever she walked, and a a pretty face that made even the swallows stop and stare (only for a few seconds). She was flat, and short, and her dark eyes made everything creepy around her, but for some reason, she managed to get a boyfriend, something Chazz marveled out.

He carried his plate along with him, the chicken leg still rummaging about. As he drew closer, his eyes widened, and once again, that old kindness resurfaced, jabbing him sharply in the side. He took a deep breath, and placed his hand on her shoulder. She jolted and turned, her weeping face claiming all of his attention.

He blinked, then cleared his throat. "What's wrong?" he asked haughtily. "This is supposed to be a party, right? Why're you crying?"

She looked like she was going to say something, but the words kept getting caught in her throat. He narrowed his eyes, and took took a piece of meat off his plate. Her eyes suddenly shook horrifically, and once again, she prompted his confusion. "Something wrong?"

"I…I um…"

He blinked. Maybe she's just hungry? With great willpower, he grabbed the chicken leg off the plate and shoved it in her terrified face. "Come on, you should be having fun," he urged forcefully. "If you don't want it…I mean, there's always beef steak, or chicken, or…wait. Are you a vegetarian or something?"

Diana held her mouth with both hands, the tears pouring further from her eyes. She shook her head vigorously, trying to fight down the sobs that managed to spew from her lips. Her skin blanched, and though Chazz could clearly see she was trying not to make a ruckus, she was already drawing attention to herself. He took a step back, just wondering what on earth he did wrong.

"Um…" he started, fumbling his way for an appropriate way to calm the girl down. "Here, look." He put the chicken leg in his mouth and smiled. "S-see? No problem at all!" He was about to give her a thumbs up when he heard a scream from behind.

Sartorius stood there, his plate dropping to the grass, frozen in place. The other students were there, trying to grasp just what on earth had happened to their once magnificent feast. The boy who was holding the cover from the platters dropped it, and, one by one, stepped back, the tears racing down his face. His hands clutched the grass, and before long, he was suddenly scrambling away from the dinner table and hiding behind his fellow members.

Chazz began pushing through the many obstacles in his way, pondering now on this strange predicament. He finally got to Sartorius's frightened frame, and began shaking it with one hand. His eyes turned to the dinner table. "Hey. What's-?"

That was a head Chazz was staring at.

The head was sitting there, on top of a skewer with what looked like bloody carrots and potatoes beneath. his eyes were gorged out, leaving dark, gaping holes staring back at him. His jet black hair lay soaking along the bloody mess, and his skull was fractures, revealing agonizing wounds from long ago. There were stitches sewn onto his lips, forming a makeshift smile, holding it in place with everything the tiny strings had. The teeth were showing, though most of them were pulled out, revealing a black, gory mess from within his mouth. Both his ears were chopped off, and his nose was split in half, the nasal cavity and bone illustrated by the now darkened, glowing light of the candles nearby. There was something drawn on it, something Chazz had to make himself squint in order to see.

" _My opponent killed me! My friends ate me!"_

Ate?

Slowly, Chazz stole a look down at his plate, not paying any attention to Diana, who was trying to get away, only to be barred from leaving. His hand started to tremble, the meat's taste still on his tongue. Finally, after a brief pause, he spat out the morsel and dropped the food. He felt his stomach regurgitating everything he's eaten, and soon, he dropped to his knees, and began throwing up.

That was his body.

That was her boyfriend's _body_ they were eating.

* * *

Jaden awoke to the sounds of screams from outside. His dark, groggy eyes began trying to make sense of what was going on down below. His hands held Alexis close, keeping her from waking as well. Wasn't that Sartorius? And Chazz? What was going on down there?

His memories suddenly raced back to him, and immediately, the panic in his chest settled into a dull, pleasant sensation. He looked down, finding Alexis still on his lap, curled up in her little ball, sleeping to the sound of some random passage he's read from the book. The fairytale itself was lying somewhere on the bed, away from all the commotion. He looked around and stretched, surprised at how refreshed he was.

He placed a hand on her head and stroked it, all the while looking out the window, at the potential mob forming right outside the dorms. No. They wouldn't dare come here. By now, they were all probably afraid of what lay in the dark, so much so they wouldn't bother this blissful night.

However, the next few hours were going to be a pain; he might as well just start making his way back to the Slifer Red dorms before he gets caught.

Still, Jaden couldn't help but relish in those moments, even as he crept out of Alexis's room, the book already neatly placed back on the shelf. The screams provided an excellent way of letting out some steam, and the way they kept scrambling like that, they were little more than roaches trying to evade sunlight. Hopefully, someone got his message. They might just start tracking down whoever he was dueling last, and arrest the guy. Jaden's already covered his tracks, so the investigation will turn up with nothing, just like the last one.

The next morning, Jaden found out from Syrus that the white dorms were still under investigation, with Crowler, much to his disappointment, shouldering the most heat. As he walked through the corridors, with the Sarge and Syrus arguing behind him, he tossed a prideful look to the white dorms, and snickered a little.

Hopefully with this, Alexis managed to shed some of her boredom.

Syrus caught Jaden's smile, and ceased his arguing for a second, only to have Sarge declaring his victory painfully through his eardrum. "Jay?" he asked quietly. "What're you laughing at?"

Jaden turned to the little boy. He stretched his hand and ruffled his hair. "Nothing. Just at a little fairytale I read last night."

Syrus peeked at his normal, jubilant face and cocked his head. "Was it good?"

"It was."

"How'd it end?"

Jaden took his hand back. He caught sight of Alexis, who savored that very same mirth. "It ended quite happily."

* * *

Author's Note:

If any of you are curious, this piece was inspired by the fairytale, _The Juniper Tree,_ by the Brothers Grimm.

-The story goes like this. There was once an evil stepmother who wanted her daughter to inherit everything. She was jealous of her stepson, and decided to kill him by nearly beheading him. When the stepmother's very nice daughter comes to talk with the boy and asks him a question, he doesn't answer. The stepmother suggests that she box his ears in. The girl does, which causes the boy's head to fall off. Horrified, thinking that she killed her brother, she goes to the evil stepmother for help. The stepmother decides to chop up the little boy's body and put it in the stew to serve at dinner.

-The father comes home, eats the stew, and compliments the meat. All the while, the girl cries at how her brother was being eaten before her very eyes. Later in the story, a young bird flies around the house, saying, _My mother slew me, My father ate me!_ The evil stepmother gets burned, her ashes rise, and later, the little boy returns alive, and they all go on to have lunch.

-The End.

I have no idea what part Jaden and Alexis play in this story. They're sicker than the stepmother...


	5. Game

Along the glistening, fading horizon, there lies a city, resting between what appears to be heaven and earth; a purgatory, if you will.

Shadows danced around the edges of the refuge, as they watch the earth rotate endlessly, every day spinning more and more out of control, down a spiraling chasm of insanity. Formless blobs walk the streets, both day and night, their eyes fixated on the ground, huddling themselves from some unknown cold, never bothering to look ahead at what new tribulations lay in front of them. They were too wrapped up in their own depressing stories to catch even a glimpse of the grandiose home they inhabit. Crystalline buildings surrounded these blobs like a pure, sophisticated nest. Large, elegant windows soared over the darkness, leaving behind a brilliant, artificial light, one that won't last much longer, the tension building up with each second passed. Shimmering signs lay overhead, blinking rhythmically to the monotone nightmare of the lachrymose surrounding it.

And in the midst of it all, running through the lines of wildness and neglect, there lay a small building at the center of it all. Unlike its fellow counterparts, it was ruined, fragile, ready to collapse at any given moment; all the windows were shattered, and bullets grazed the parking lots nearby. Tiny rats scurried from here to there, and slanderous labels marketed themselves across the entirety of walls, the cobwebs draping ever so lovingly along the stretches of words. It was also very uncivilized; sirens clouded the calmness of night, with armies of gun barrels pointed toward any and every exit of the building, all without the slightest clue of who they were targeting.

Gruff looking men were situated at the foot of the edifice, trying to determine whether or not to break through and hunt down their prey, or if it was even worth chasing them to begin with. For some odd reason, they weren't attracting any attention from a majority of the masses, considering they were in such a bustling location. But it the curious fact never reached them, since much of the men were at their breaking point, their minds distracted by a group of prey hiding out inside the building. They did say to do whatever it was necessary "to bring the filth to justice." But then again, the order said to capture them alive…

While this moral battle ensured, there was a different sort of atmosphere playing out above those petty little sins. On the upper floors of the building, two silhouettes, one male, one female, stared down at the confused crowds, content with the chaos they produced from their predators. An air of elitism surrounded them so readily, with an unmistakably radiant pride keeping them away from an abyss of unknowing despair. Though memories clawed at their frames, and their eyes clouded by the hauntings of fortune's decadence, there they were, unscathed by it all.

The man, who had just went away from the window, was talking on a small, grey cellphone. His cool blue eyes regarded everything around him evenly, contrasting to his fiery, regal companion standing a few yards away. His lightly tan skin that clothed him so readily provided a basis for the clothes that adorned him, which consisted of a simple, tattered, long sleeved shirt, whose collar was ripped from shoulder to shoulder, and black, torn jeans to go along with it. His muscles splayed themselves with every slight movement; the tension from his arms immediately relaxed through his conversation, and suddenly, they seemed to settle in a weary yet peaceful manner. His dark combat boots fit snuggly along his legs. On his neck, there was a simple, black choker, with a black rose firmly placed to the side. His ebonic, raven hair only added to his corruptible influence; he never even thought to dominate it.

The woman, who barely looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, twirled her long, burgundy bangs in her elegant fingers. Her hair was cropped to her shoulders, giving her a bit of a tomboyish edge, and though she wore no hairpiece, no ribbon, nothing to proclaim her feminine charms, she somehow managed to retain her aristocratic posture. Her pale skin glowed from the permanent, etched lines of the darkness, all of which led to that shredded, red dress, the seams cascading to the floors so easily. The grey, see-through gloves hugged her bare arms, the opening stopped to her elbows, all the while covering her fingers with lace. She wore black, high-heeled boots, and she added to her seductive charms when she crossed her arms around her stomach, emphasizing her already large cleavage. Her eyes kept gazing down amusingly at now determined soldiers, as they proceeded going through a plan that was going to fail.

The man shut his cellphone, and placed it in his pocket. He turned lazily toward the woman with a slightly irritated expression tugging at his face. "They're ready."

She never looked away from her hateful audience. "A couple minutes then, before the quarry gets to us." Her dark, golden eyes stole a look at his, and practically laughed at his impatience. "I take it you don't like the game?"

"Me not liking your sick amusements is a very tepid observation." he answered.

She turned toward him slightly, tearing her attention away from the ever growing predicament. "What then? _You_ of all people admire the hunt, more than any of us."

He shrugged. "It just seems a bit boring, staying in one room like this."

"But isn't this more exciting?" she asked, walking up to him steadily. "Make a big shot hero believe they're closing in. They think they're winning, so they let their pride take over, only just a tiny bit. They've closed off all the areas, and there's no chance of escape for their perceived prey. Every one of their enemy's allies are dead, and now, all they have to do is destroy that one last eyesore of an obstacle, the pathetic, idiotic Big Bad, and all will be well."

She chuckled softly, as her arms fell slowly to her side. She stopped within a few inches away from the man's face, and leaned over callously. "Then they realize that it'd all been for naught. And when they finally see how worthless their efforts were, it's too late. The hero dies, the villain gloats, mass mayhem ensues-"

"And everyone dies," he finishes emotionlessly. "You've used that storyline over and over again; don't you ever get tired of it?"

"When they shoot me at least _once,_ then I'll stop."

He tapped her forehead lightly with one finger, then steadily, his thumb traced over to her right eye. His nail finally stopped at her bottom lip. "You've _been_ shot Akiza. Three times," he reminded, annoyed by her suddenly bad memory. "You were lucky those bullets tore through your head, else we'd be stuck with another gory mess."

Akiza snickered lightly, recalling those agonizing moments of when Alexis had the unfortunate luck of having an ax stuck to her head for a couple of hours. She kept running around, crying like a madman, while her skull was readily being split in half. It took some time to catch her, dragging her to the kitchen table kicking and screaming, and have the weapon removed; both she and Yusei had to hold her down, while Jaden yanked the ax away from her brain, white and grey matter splattering all over the floors. The girl had a very bad headache for the next few days. The entire ordeal was hilarious.

She composed herself, and playfully slapped his hand away. "If you're that worried, why don't you try it? The sensation isn't that bad, you know."

"I'm not a masochist."

She raised an eye. "Sadist?"

"That's not the issue here-"

"You're not denying it though!" She clapped her hands gently, while cocking her head toward the now rampant sounds through the windows. "And what a pair that is. I never would've figured that-"

" _Moving on,"_ he said finally, erupted by the rambunctious toddlers down below. It seems they were already assaulting the building; he could hear their footsteps echoing from beyond the corridors, loud commands bursting here and there, destroying whatever they can, trying to frighten the infamous coven into submission. A gun shot rang from beyond the steadfast air, and the veils which once safeguarded that same, playful, civilized atmosphere, has now vanished, replaced by a some cold, distant motivation.

Akiza smirked, going toward the center of the room and awaiting their judgement. Yusei followed her carefully, mustering the strength to satisfy his curiosity. "Why do you do this?"

"Do what?" she whispered softly, placing her hands behind her. Her hips swayed to the sonorous repertoire of the mens' forceful entry. Any time now, along the crescendo, one by one, the hero's comrades will start disappearing.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. "You put yourself into these impossible situations. You back yourself into a corner, and practically wait for a death sentence. You have no qualms about dragging us down either."

She never looked at him, but he could feel her enlightened brain growing ever more entertained. "Why? Are you that worried? If you don't like the way I'm running things-"

" _Akiza."_

"Huh?"

"There are over 200 men down there, and we're completely surrounded-"

"Russian Roulette."

"What?"

She tilted her head upwards and sighed happily, enjoying the instantaneously crumbling peace. "You've heard of that troublesome game right? The one where you get a revolver, put a single round in it, stick it to your head? I saw Jaden playing it with some of the gangs here; I'm amazed at his luck by the way."

"He probably rigged it. What of it?"

"It's the result," she explained then, as she released herself from that stiff position, stretching her arms toward the ceiling. "It's the result of knowing that you, in the end, are still alive. I don't mean that ground collapsing relief, nor that delusional invincibility you get after some stupid near death experience. No, not at all."

She turned toward him, her bright, golden orbs glistening along the now faded moonlight. "It's the _tension._ The suspense. The agonizing wait of knowing what may or may not occur within this cruel world of ours. When you stand back and gaze from afar, you can easily predict what's going to happen; you're detached, a mindless puppet in the hands of a director that neither knows nor cares about your feelings or opinions."

She narrowed her eyes, that same, childish smile dancing onto her lips. "But when you're _in_ it, holding to your last breath, thinking back to all of your regrets, all you want to do, all you _wished_ to do but were either too proud or lazy or whatever to do it, _that_ is when your emotions run wild. You aren't some empty shell watching the excitement go by, and though in reality, you're just following the director's plot, though your thoughts and actions are as predictable as that idiotic moon's cycle, you actually _believe_ that your precious will is your own. And when you finally overcome that lie, when you finally realize that your very existence is determined not by you or any of your peers or society itself…what would happen then?"

She slides her pupils toward Yusei. He breathed a heavy breath, pondering on the two wayward lovers who were slaughtering everyone in sight. "You're insane."

"Shut up; you love me for it."

"So, who's holding the revolver now?"

She put one hand to her ear, and listened intently. "I guess we are."

Picking off those soldiers one by one, destroying them, decimating their spirits at the cost of their freedoms… _Shoot on sight! Shoot on sight!_ kept resounding from one room to the next. The adrenaline rushing through their veins was agitating their hearts, so much so some of those men haven't even noticed yet their missing companions, too wrapped up in the thought of the glory of being the first to take down the infamous coven. One step after the other, they started dissolving, removing all those irritating shackles loved ones have forced onto them, reverting back to primitive animals that had no hope of thinking for themselves. They were even beginning to sound like comic book protagonists, apocalypse survivors who had nothing to lose.

Two men finally burst into the room, wearing those dull suits that were sullied with blood and tiny bits of organ. What? Did their shades blind them?

Akiza smoothly turned back toward the men, and gave them a charming smile. "Huh, that was fast."

"You really are insane." Yusei muttered.

"Shut up!" one of the men screeched, taking a haughty step toward the Black Rose. "Now, both of you surrender! Give yourselves up!"

Their eyes slowly drifted away from the men, and into the hallway. Ah, what a sight that was; limbs covered every inch of the hallway, and neat little blood splatters painted the walls, covering the obscene, offensive graffiti. They could make out the dark, bloody bones that were so contemptibly ripped out of their respective master's corpses, and terrified faces that resulted from them not being careful enough. Hands, fingers, toes, whatever flesh that just happened to be on the body, was meticulously carved away and thrown into the pile.

They were so engrossed by the scene the men smiled, believing the prey to be frightened. Slowly, they closed in, trying to provoke more of a reaction. Yusei caught their footsteps, and immediately, went to Akiza's side. "You're all idiots," he murmured.

"You're not in any position to talk," the man hissed.

Yusei blinked. "You're seriously going to say that…"

Akiza elbowed him gently. "I know right."

The climax was just as amusing.

They didn't have to move, didn't have to do anything. They only had to sit back and watch as the men suddenly started distorting themselves, compressing their bodies into some sort of little neat box. Yusei imagined every organ rupturing from the pressure, every bone breaking in an effort to comply with what their minds suggested they do. Droplets of water the body had yet to absorb was beginning to separate forcefully from their blood, and thus, were pouring into their lungs, drowning them. And at last, the assailants fell.

Huh, there was a lot more filth than he's originally suspected.

He stared down at them with those cold, icy eyes, then looked up at the scene in front of them. "I'd rather you didn't point your gun at her like that," he warned. He then turned to Akiza with a soft glare. "Were you shot?"

"Why'd you do that? What'd I tell you before?"

"I'm not obeying an order like that."

"The others-"

They both went back to the scene, hearing those familiar footsteps racing toward them eagerly. The initial warmth in Yusei's expression faded, replaced by a familial indifference that came with their antics. Alexis had on a Gothic, white minidress whose skirts were torn apart by knives and bullets, while Jaden donned his favorite skull t-shirt, along with light blue jeans that, unknowingly, was sprayed on by his victims' remnants. Yusei remained where he was, even as the girl came careening toward them, arms outstretched; more than likely, they'll have to buy new medications for her.

The blonde grabbed Akiza's wrists and tugged at her immaturely. "You should've seen them!" she squealed. "I still can't believe they fell for that old trick!" All the while, Jaden walked up to Yusei, chuckling at the crimson corridors. "So…good artwork, right?"

"You're pants are dirty."

He scoffed, brushing aside his comment altogether to marvel at the ludicrous mess. "Artists need freedom. Hey, see what I did there? With the hands and-"

"Yeah, I got it."

Akiza managed to calm the enthusiastic girl down with an unreadable expression. Yusei laughed for a brief moment; considering how excited she was before, this must probably be a letdown.

Probably.

"This branch has fallen," she stated, her voice commanding his respect automatically. "We'll head east to Bucharest and see if the faction there has regrouped."

Yusei turned away, and stared out at this old, annoying city. "Why the change? Did the group in New York lose control?"

"Yes. There's a power struggle, so I doubt anyone would just pass up the chance to attack them. But they're not as fun to play with if they aren't organized."

"…Are you still trying to get shot?"

"Maybe." She cast a naughty, recognizable smile toward him. He remembered their conversation from before, and groaned inwardly.

"I'm not a freaking sadist."


	6. Graduation

She was incredibly beautiful, in that one, melancholic, bright dream.

She was in a grassy, warm field, with blooming flowers swaying to some sorrowful melody the wind sang so very effortlessly. Sporadic hills kept rising in the distance gently, giving off some soft, light dirge before, once again, fading away into the heavenly horizon. Butterflies flew from one flower to the next, not knowing which one to rest on, which one to care for during this eternal moment. There were no trees in the distance, no buildings to mar the field's beauty.

She held that small boy's hand carefully, balancing his fragile palm on her skin as if it were the most precious thing on earth. Dark, demonic wings remained outstretched in the angelic light, with soft eyes, both azure and orange, staring down at her beloved playmate. Her wild hair kept flying behind her, a mix of white and pale amethyst reigning down on the illusory scene. Her blanched, pink skin no longer seemed sickly or unnatural; if anything, it took on a shade that resembled spring's maturity, wrapping itself along breakable flower buds and petals. Her blue lips resembled the streams she once played in, with that radiant light gliding along the surface as she did so, while her declawed hands stroked the boy's cheeks gently. She wore a skin tight, black dress, elegant and motherlike, resembling nothing from her past, rebellious self.

Yubel really was beautiful.

Jaden watched the two embrace each other tightly, refraining himself from interrupting their reunion. That little boy tugged at the woman's bangs playfully, and whispered something to her ear, his lips brushing her collarbone slightly as she blushed as the very mention of the term. That boy laughed at her embarrassment, and laid his head on her neck sweetly, before drifting off into some deep, dark slumber, one which neither Jaden nor Yubel wanted to wake him from.

The creature swept the tiny boy in her arms, and sat down, in those lovely fields, mesmerized by her playmate's innocent face. She straddled him in her arms and took his tiny hand, then closed her eyes, praying for sweet, everlasting dreams, not just for him, but for her as well. She then resigned herself to that same, peaceful moment. She didn't notice the tears falling from her eyes, as she sank into that blissful, well-deserved rest.

Jaden could already see the two crumbling away, in the midst of such a fragile world. The power radiated from inside his very soul, its former masters abandoning it willfully, happily, to pursue a purity he knew he could never understand. He clutched his heart, counting every bit of dust that fell from their bodies, every tear that fell from Yubel's tranquil eyes, every breath the tiny boy took before the spirit fled quietly from his body.

What was it? What was that painful, aching feeling? It wasn't jealousy, no not that, nor was it anger, or sadness…or anything like that. It wasn't nostalgia or relief. Rather…rather it was something else. Every emotion resonated deep within Jaden's body, threatening to pour out forcefully like it always did whenever he felt unstable. He wanted to stop the two from fading away, from attaining that sought after light, but he didn't know how. He felt helpless, vulnerable, insane.

But in the end, he knew it'd be pointless.

And in that instant, he woke up.

He lay there, on that lonely bed, his hands clutching the covers, as the summer heat attacking him within the contents of that hellish, Egyptian summer. He stared up at the wooden ceiling, his dark eyes surveying the ruined, poverty-stricken room. Two small bags were situated in the corner, curling against that warm, thick coat of spiderwebs. A wooden desk set itself in the middle, with a black folder settled on top, with two trivial certificates on top of that, and the stark realization suddenly came down on him. It'd already been a week since both he and Alexis graduated from the alleged prestigious Duel Academy.

He started to sit up, his muscles aching from the awkward position he'd been sleeping in. The memories were getting to him. Where was she anyways?

"Bad dream?"

Lazily, he turned to Alexis, who was sitting at the foot of the bed with children's book in her lap, along with that same paper Banner gave him. She was wearing that same, tattered, white dress, which since then had lost its lost its naive, royal luster. Dirt clung to the hems desperately, followed by the grimy remnants of someone throwing away whatever trash they had out onto the streets. "No," he finally answered. "It was…it was nice."

"You've already said goodbye?"

"I did."

"Are you sad she left?"

"No. I got her power; that's all that matters."

She twisted her waist, and looked at him with wondering, sagacious eyes. Carefully, she raised her hand and stroked his cheeks, brushing away the tears he hadn't even known had come down. She gave him that familiar, sad smile, and dragged herself toward him, firmly sitting on his leg while doing so. "You're gonna miss her, aren't you?"

"Alexis-"

"Even I know you're not that heartless." She removed the paper from her book, and unfolded it gently, then shoved it in his face. "Look here; I wrote something too."

"Good for you," he dismissed callously.

"Syrus and Sarge were really mad. You should call them."

He regarded her suspiciously. "What are you playing at?"

"Nothing," she answered simply, before moving to his side. She nestled against his shoulder. "Chazz is as spirited as always."

"He's an idiot." he countered.

"And that Jesse guy was always looking out for you."

"Loser."

"Blair sends her love."

"Desperate."

"And Atticus says he'll hand me over."

"Fag."

Alexis stared at him surprisingly. "You've always laughed at his jokes though."

"I laughed because I had to," Jaden said finally, rubbing the weariness away from his eyes. "It's not like they were friends or anything. They were just-"

"-a way to pass the time," she finished depressingly. She cocked her head, and twisted her body toward his. "It was a sad way to end it too. You were just about to open up."

He narrowed his eyes, recalling the entirety of those repetitive, high school years. It was true that he put in more effort this time than the last, but that was because he was so bored with always being the intelligent, reclusive outcast. But this time was different; because of Alexis's demanding nature, he decided to construct a completely new character for the both of them, which was a refreshing change, in his opinion. A happy, childish brat who managed to nurture his obsession with friends, dueling, and anything non-academic, and a young, sophisticated, ambitious student who beat everyone standing in her path. He and Alexis sheltered their lie, and made everyone believe in the existence of some false characters that shouldn't have been introduced to begin with.

However, there was one slip up, and that was during senior year. For some reason, Jaden started slipping back into his old, arrogant self, and didn't feigned the interest he'd done before. Alexis kept up with her facade, but it was never enough to ease the void he had caused with his sudden change in behavior. Their "friends'" reactions bothered him…and so he decided to stay away, at least until the graduation ceremony (then again, he never attended that either.)

Jaden shrugged. "They liked my acting, huh?"

"Well, they never said they hated it." She closed her eyes, and picked up his hand. She traced the lines with her thumb, all the while making those formless shapes that she's remembered so well from those gory, cruel fairytales. "Were you ready to cast that persona away?"

"Maybe."

"To think that Jaden Yuuki was actually _smart_ , not to mention sadistic, merciless-"

"You think they'd really accept that kind of person into their little clique?" he asked quietly, causing her to fall silent. "I've watched them. I've studied every move, deciphered every little gaze that was directed at me, listened to those conversations we've had-"

"I really do love them though." she interrupted, pressing her hand against her chest. "All of them. Even though we've lied to them." She leaned her forehead against his. "You too, more than anyone else.

"I'm probably not going to miss them," he muttered stubbornly. His hard, cold expression softened though, as he thought back on those timeless moments. "They'll find new friends, replace old ones, do whatever it takes to forget whatever pain they feel. For them, the relationships come and go-"

"But they're nothing like us. To them, one simple second would already seem like forever. So when you look at them now, it looks like they're looking everywhere for you, not even willing to wave goodbye to a friend they might never see again. But before you know it, before you turn around, they'll have already died, turning to dust in the pits of their graves." She wrapped her arms around him then, her cheek on his head. "It's important that we spend every day with them, else we'll never tell them what we wanted to in the first place."

Jaden relaxed in her touch, his lips brushing her wrist slightly. "What of you then? You're in the same situation."

"I know I am," she chuckled. "I already asked Mindy and Jasmine for their phone numbers before I left."

"Will you three still be close, even if it's forty years down the road? Yusei messed with everyone's memories after all-"

"I think it'll be fine." She kissed the crown of his head, and held him a bit closer. "Even if they forget who Alexis Rhodes is, or they hate me later on and say they never want to see me again, they're still my friends.

"…Huh."

"Speaking of which, Yusei called."

"Another assault?"

"No. Someone's challenging him for the title of the Black Rose again. We're supposed to watch the fight."

"What territory is being offered to us?"

Alexis smirked. "All of Romania and Poland."

Poland…he's heard that Chazz wanted to go to Poland someday, though he didn't know for what. Then, just like that, Jaden remembered something, something important. "When is the first major International Duel Tournament?"

She giggled. "In Warsaw. Chazz invited us, remember?"


	7. Name

He trudged against the fluorescent lights, with every part of his body seemingly aching from the long hours of torture. His bangs clung to his closed eyes, while the white straight-jacket wound around his body tightly, suffocating his lungs with chains and leather straps. Stitches covered every inch of his mouth, with the needle hanging from his bottom lip, stretching all the way down to his abdomen. Ugly bruises covered half of his face, along with wounds that exposed a bit of bone. There was a needle lodged in his throat, and from both sides, black and red seeped onto the rough fabric, and two iron rods stuck out from his back.

Two guardsmen shoved him forward, keeping his hands bound behind as they marched forth. He could hear their shocked whispers smoothly gliding back and forth, the conversation drumming against his ears like an unwelcome alarm in the middle of the night. They held him close, trying to prevent him from escaping, though he had nowhere to go, and did whatever they could to shut out his own individual thoughts. He didn't move away from their sick warmth, and showed indifference even as they berated him to fulfill a personal, sadistic accomplishment. When they were finally silent, he knew where they were.

Though the executioner's block was secluded, he's memorized its layout a plethora of times to know which device went where. The bell towers surrounded the four corners of the fenced off square. An iron maiden lay off to the side, as well as a noose in the event the judge felt the tiniest bit merciful, which was always never the case. A butcher table was usually in the middle of the arena, along with the various bloody weapons that stood near it, just waiting to be used. Body parts were scattered here and there, from an arm, to a leg, to even a heart or two. He could hear the screams from past victims, from humans to immortals to hunters that refused to acknowledge their place.

He could hear the crowds surrounding the medieval arena, carefully watching his movements, wondering whether or not he was going to try and worm his way out of his fate. They all fell silent when he stepped onto the stage, an air of disappointment filling the audience immediately, as they picked out every detail lodged within his pitiful state. There the General was, wallowing in his own despair, no friend or ally to stand to his aid, no supporters left to help garner his reputation. Former students came to mourn for his lost prestige, along with traitorous comrades snickering at his downgraded state, reveling in their success as they seated themselves along with their less sympathetic servants.

The guardsmen stopped somewhere, asking themselves what they should be doing now. So one of them shoved him to the ground and stomped on his head, suggesting that they tell a few stories to pass the time. His companion listened closely, both to the words and to the sound of the prisoner's skull cracking; whenever a scene appeared incredibly intense, the pressure became more troublesome. The skin was first broke, then the membrane; he started feeling the man's foot at the edge of his brain when he heard familiar footsteps walking toward them. The men halted their assault and stood attentively at Commander Belletrix.

She asked them to leave, to which they did so unquestioningly. He could hear her crouch down, her lips brushing his ear, as she whispered coldly, "Open your eyes, Nikolai."

He did just that, though he kept them trained to the ground. But he could see her frightening demeanor, and make out her beautiful features from the reflection across the metal beams. Her blond curls cascaded down her voluptuous body, and her spiky bangs were neatly pushed brushed out of her bright, green eyes. She was wearing black, high-heeled combat boots, and though he couldn't see it, he knew she was outfitted with a black, revealing dress that advertised the various blades attached to her skin. The silver gleamed around the majority of her body, but in the darkness, he could make out their frame.

"Look up."

He ignored her.

She cupped his chin in her long, icy fingers and forced him to look at her. As usual, there was no emotion those piercing her eyes of hers. The two gazed at one another other for a long time, and for a while, he didn't know whether he should be thankful he got to see her again, or turn away from her like everyone else. There was no doubt, however, that she was ashamed by his crime, and she showed no hesitation in staring him down.

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" she observed quietly. "You knew that if you saved her, you'd have to face the tribunals."

Callously, he nodded.

"Why then? Need I remind you that the higher-up you are, the more severe your punishment is?" Her hand slowly caressed his cheek, all the while gripping the thread and ripping away the thread that bound his mouth. When she was done, she placed a finger on the needle in his neck and tossed it aside. She waited for the bleeding to stop, when she held his face firm in her hands.

"Why?" she repeated.

The question delved through his thoughts, digging up memories of those horrific moments, each ending with tiny splats of crimson and anger. He reminisced on the minutes that passed from each encounter, from the time he found Meredith's corpse in the Black Rose's arms, to the brother that was now in her possession. He thought back to the sweet pleasure he took when her blood first spilled to the ground, the frustration he felt when she evaded him every single time, leaving him half dead in every struggle that ensued. He thought back to his ongoing madness, to how she saved him many a time from going insane from the loneliness alone. He thought back to the aimless lies they've fed each other, all the while tracking each other, playing a game in which he questioned the loyalty he had toward his family, and his sanity.

He finally opened his mouth. "I've no idea."

Belletrix scoffed. "She's taken away a countless number of loved ones. She's killed two of our siblings. She's a threat that needed to be put down, and you're saying you saved her on a whim?"

"Those experiments had no loved ones," he answered emptily. "They were just shells without a purpose. They neither desired nor cared for the world they lived in."

"Do you believe what she's doing is justified then? Murdering countless number of innocent people, all the while proclaiming some sick, psychotic judgement? Do you honestly believe the world is that simple?"

"I should be asking you that," he managed, his cold, azure eyes meeting her abyssal pupils. "She knows she's a murderer, but at the very least, she doesn't have the arrogance to claim that what she's doing is right." He heaved a heavy breath, and glowered at her. "We're just playthings Becca, in the midst of a larger, more horrid nightmare. You really can't see that?"

"I'm not ready to lose to some miserable creature," she hissed softly, throwing his face on the ground. "What? Did she throw her body around like some prostitute? Was one night worth it?"

He chuckled lightly. "Now you're being ridiculous. Did you want to be the one to-?"

A loud, resounding crack pierced through the air. All the air in his body forced itself out, his already wounded body crying out against the pain. He coughed up the wasted blood that was circulating through his system, all the while waiting for another chance to evade the tiresome drug-induced comas. He laughed at his dilemma then, as he resigned himself to the Commander's growing instability.

She stood, and stared down at him one last time, before gazing out into the crowds. "He has refused to admit to his crimes!" she screamed hysterically, as she addressed the stunned silence with her own natural authority. "He will not repent, nor will he seek any assurances for his pathetic life. Therefore, I charge my second-in-command, General Nikolai Alteo with treason, and sentence him to death!"

He listened to the cheers from the sidelines, and he joined them. This was it. This was really it; he wouldn't have to put up with this any longer. He wouldn't have to deal with burdensome emotions, or life itself, and everything associated with it; all he had to do was close his eyes, and sleep for a while. Dream of something pleasant, all the while floating in that dark, cold emptiness, eyes blank, waiting patiently for Death's cold, compassionate embrace to claim him so easily.

He smiled and one by one, his body started shutting down, the cold stroking every vein in his body, gripping his vital organs without effort. He felt himself shivering, seeping away his strength with every second passed. His eyes closed, slowly but surely giving into hypothermia, his limps freezing themselves to death, turning every fluid in his body black.

 _You idiot._

All at once, the chaos permeated through every person around her. There were hunters rushing toward the exits, trampling over one another in some vain attempt to get away from the infamous witch. There were officials trying to get to the closed off execution, doing whatever they could to pound against the locks, screaming for Belletrix to get away from the arena. His eyes widened, as the entirety of the juries fled without the slightest hints of hesitation, the now abandoned area gazing at all of them.

The chains undid themselves, falling to the ground worthlessly as they scraped his skin desperately. The iron rods slid away from his back, leaving two gaping holes that came so very close to cracking his spine. The relief, as well as the pain, came crashing down on him, removing every trace of ice they could find. He sat there, his eyes wide in shock, trying to register what'd just happened, trying to deduce her motive for doing so.

He watched as the Black Rose came forth and subdued his sister. Large, skeletal wings emerged from her back, her own blood rummaging down the long, white trail, as she pinned Belletrix down. She removed the veins lodged within the Commander's arms and legs, rendering her a useless puppet. She grimaced when she fell to the ground, twitching helplessly on the floor.

And before he knew it, they were running.

His hand in hers.

They were running through a blood-soaked corridor with piles of bodies everywhere. Their horrified expressions kept blurring in his mind, kept distorting themselves in his eyes. The shadows raced past him, their claws reaching out, endeavoring to pull him back to the society he forsook so long ago. The blur of red attacked his vision, and fatigue seared itself across his mind, so much so he almost lost his balance.

Finally, he collapsed.

The Black Rose caught him and sat him up, trying to shake him awake. "Come on," she whispered. "We've got to go."

He gritted his teeth, her own, icy touch enough to make him recoil. "Let go-"

"Right now isn't the time," she answered calmly, as she set him back on his feet, though he had leaned against her petite frame. "We need to move or we're going to get caught."

His eyes slid toward a face he couldn't see. "Why did you save me?" he asked then. "If I died, you wouldn't have had anything to worry about."

"You're more human than you think you are. And I find that refreshing."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Now come," she ordered sternly, taking his hand once again and leading him away from the execution. "The guards on the North and East side are dead. It'll take two hours for them to regroup, and we're almost to the exit."

He followed her silently, the tiredness wearing him down with every step. How long had he been tortured like that? How long had he been at their mercy? He could recall every nightmare they've laid claim to his mind, every object they pierced into his body. His organs have been removed more than once, each time more painful than the last, as they relentlessly interrogated him, trying to determine what he revealed to the infamous witch, to the coven that'd been so much of a threat for the last century.

His fingers loosened. "What happens after this?"

"We'll go somewhere for you to rest. When you get better, we'll return and eradicate this branch."

He narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think I'd want to join?"

"I just figured you'd want some change. Besides which," her golden eyes flicked toward his, "you're not in any position to complain. And though he doesn't want to admit it, he misses you."

He closed his eyes. He remembered that tiny boy who used to follow Meredith everywhere, who would always try and steal some of Belletrix's clothes, who would pick a fight with him just for the fun of it. He remembered how adorable the boy was, how curious he was everything, even for a child as smart as he was. "He's still with your little rabbit, by the way," the Black Rose interrupted. "They're quite the couple."

"He was always a bit impulsive. Are they happy with their little fairytale ending?" he asked harshly.

"They are."

"What a nice dream that must be."

The witch fell silent for a while then, before finally coming to a halt. Even as the sirens raised from every possible direction, she had that same, thoughtful expression on her face. She never moved, as if frozen in some memory she caught on to. "You're not particularly concerned with being discovered," she said softly. "Do you want to die that badly?"

"I've no idea. Are you that concerned about my mentality?"

"This place is hell, no matter how you look at it," she replied, as she started walking. "How long have you been trapped here?"

"For as long as I can remember."

"Is this your only reality then?"

He shrugged. "I've no idea."

He felt her fingers tighten around his hand. It was so different from what he was used to, and immediately, he narrowed his eyes and looked up. "Are you jealous of your brother's happy end?" she inquired.

"Should I be?"

"Do you have anything to compare his happiness to?"

He cocked his head. "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She stopped again, and turned around. She closed the distance between them and pressed his hand against her chest. There was an analytical light in her eye. "I hate your old name."

He smirked. "I've never felt attached to it."

"Then why do you keep it?"

"There's nothing else I can go by."

"Yusei."

He blinked. "What?"

She placed her palm against his face gently. "That's your name from now on. Yusei."


	8. Car

The first time Alexis drove, she was alone.

She was waiting at the corner of some lonely street, wearing a neat, white dress, with clean-cut sleeves and a long skirt that reached all the way to her knees. Her blond hair was tied back into a messy little ponytail, with a silver feather clipped to her forehead. Though a gold bracelet clung from her wrist, and bright topaz earrings hung from her earlobes, she was barefoot, with the dirt rubbing off on her feet happily.

Supposedly, she was ordered by Akiza to stay put until Jaden or Yusei arrived to take her back to Warsaw. There were multiple a lot of secret alliances being made in Poland to rebel against the Black Rose, and it was imperative the group put it down, else they'd lose face in front of the remaining covens. Akiza and Yusei planned on handling the negotiations, making sure the other covens weren't planning on overtaking the region, while Jaden was salvaging whatever material that former branches left behind, coming up with new technological advances to keep opposing forces at bay. Basically, it was just a lot of gibberish Alexis never cared for; after all, it wasn't like she was going to get to fight.

She looked down at her own garb. Why was she dressed up like this anyways? To be perfectly honest, she didn't like jewelry, nor did she enjoy dressing in such plain clothes. Putting her hair up was just too much effort, and though she liked the feather clip, it didn't do much to appease her already sour mood.

She sighed, and walked back, leaning against the empty building. There was a really cool party just a couple of miles from where she was. Even from here, she could tell those kids were all having fun. Music, dancing, drinking; no one was conscious about what they were wearing, nor did anyone care about etiquette and behavior. They were just as rambunctious as ever, feral to a humorous fault.

Her eyes scanned the variety of abandoned cars left on the side of the streets. There was a long line of them, all unlocked, all with keys on the inside. Once again, she started pouting. She was going to attend some dull, dry conference, pretending to look partially interested, while those kids got to spend temporal freedoms doing whatever they wished without any rules to follow. Sure, from time to time the she got to go to one, but then Jaden would just drag her out before she got to have any fun.

It just wasn't fair.

She peeked back up at the temptation lying before her. Dark and light, big and small, old and new… those kids left them behind, right? She's sure they wouldn't mind if she just drove around in them a little. She smiled a bit, and looked around the abandoned town, before hopping away from her spot and rushing toward the long row of cars.

It took her a while, but finally, she stopped at the car that was at the near end of the street. It was sleek, coated in red paint with pink and purple flowers all over, and had a little teddybear swaying from the mirror. She giggled excitedly and opened the door. As she suspected, the keys were still there, just sitting on the car seat. She fumbled with them a bit before putting them into the ignition and starting up the car.

She got in the car and closed the door. She put her hands on the wheels and kept herself from squealing delightfully. Alexis leaned back and put her foot on the brake, gripping the handle with one hand, while looking back on the road. This car was parallel parked, wasn't it? Shouldn't be too hard to get out then. She's seen Yusei do this plenty of times before. She shifted the gear into drive and slammed her foot on the gas pedal.

Then crushed the front of the car into its fellow companion.

She looked up, then looked back down, pleased that, at the very least, she got the basics. Okay, so you do that, then you shift to reverse, right? She held the brake, and shifted it to reverse. She slammed the gas pedal again, and the car moved immediately, colliding with yet another vehicle that was, unfortunately, doing nothing wrong.

Well…she could get out now.

She shifted it back into drive, and sharply jerked the wheel left. She hit the gas pedal, and took off without a care in the world.

By the time Jaden came by, she managed to make a majority of the telephone poles in the vicinity collapse onto a row of innocent cars, all of which were entangled in wires and smoke. Small shop entrances were destroyed, with glass and plastic flying everywhere. Tiny little fires spouted here and there, all leading up to a ruined car that carried a giddy Alexis in the driver's seat.

A total of thirty-nine vehicles were demolished that day.

* * *

The second time Alexis drove, she was with Jaden.

"Okay," he said exasperatedly, dragging himself into the passenger seat while Alexis was squirming from behind the wheel. He was wearing a torn black sweater, with tight, green jeans that had a little bat hanging from the belt. She slipped on an oversized, white blouse with a pair of torn blue jeans to go with it. Both had their seat belts on, as he worriedly noted. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"You remember the basics?"

"I do."

He frowned. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Come on," Alexis cooed, giving him a bright, beaming smile. "I'm not _that_ bad. And besides, I've been practicing."

"On _what?"_

"Let's just go." She dismissed, as she took a deep breath and clutched the wheel with both hands. She held the brake, and shifted the car into drive. She peered around, then moved out of the large driveway. When they came onto the street, she concentrated on the empty roads, as she eased her foot onto the gas pedal. Unlike last time, the car began slowly, gradually picking up speed before leveling off. It was around a minute before she turned back toward Jaden, and smirked satisfyingly. "See? Told you I improved."

"You're hard to take seriously."

"Admit it; I'm a good driver."

"Hasn't even been ten minutes," Jaden stated. His eyes softened then, as he stared ahead at the road. "If you manage _not_ to kill us, I'll buy you something."

Alexis raised her eyes as she leaned over. "Like…?"

"I don't know. Ice cream? Candy? That new dollhouse you've been wanting since…hey, why didn't you stop?" Jaden turned around confusingly, which prompted Alexis to do the same. "What?"

"There was a stop sign back there," he answered, bringing his attention back to the front of the road. "Maybe you should just-WHOA!"

Alexis felt his hands jerk the wheel right, before bringing it back to the road. An SUV kept honking at them, with its driver giving Alexis the finger. Jaden stared at nothing for a moment, before gritting his teeth and swirling around to the girl. "Keep your eyes on the road!"

Alexis blinked. "Was that guy angry at us?"

"Turn around Alexis! Watch out!"

Again, the car swerved right. Angrily, Alexis turned to Jaden. "What was _that_ for?! There was no one there!"

"There was a _couple_ there. How could you not notice them?"

"Got it! Stop yelling; you're hurting my ears."

"Whatever," he muttered, settling back into silence. The tension built up along the lines of the atmosphere, as the inexperienced driver contemplated on which route to take, and whether or not she should just kick the passenger out right now. It wasn't long before said passenger began voicing his warnings again. "Alexis…Alexis, slow down. We're still in the neighborhood."

"We'll be fine," she grumbled.

"I'm telling you right now; _slow down."_

"And I said _we'll be fine."_

"I swear if you don't slow down-YOU'RE GOING SEVENTY?!"

"Don't worry. It'll work out!"

"Alexis, hit the brakes!"

She turned around. "Would you stop yelling? You're getting on my nerves-!"

"You're driving off the road!" he screamed, hanging onto the dashboard desperately. "Stop the car!"

"Maybe I wanted to come here!"

"Alexis, _this is serious-!"_

"Would you just shut up and let me drive?!"

"WE'RE HEADING FOR THE CLIFF!"

"It's fine!" she shouted back, clearly not understanding the danger of the situation. "Look, I can just brake and reverse-"

By the time she found her footing, the car had already gone over the railing, and was diving straight into dark waters.

* * *

The third time Alexis drove, she was with Yusei.

Now, Yusei had already been warned by his little brother, who had the unfortunate experience of plummeting into the bottom of the ocean, where he narrowly managed to escape the painful incident of having the water pressure snap his fragile body in half, as well as avoiding a variety of other sea monsters who were waiting down below. Among the many problems that were still quite present in the girl's driving, there was also her tendency to become easily distracted, her quick temper, her violent disposition against taking sound advice, and her inability to differentiate between a stop sign and empty space. The entire conversation ended with Jaden spouting out his rants against her before slamming the door and staying in his room for the remainder of the night.

So when Alexis approached him a few days later, asking him to teach her how to drive, he was nervous, to say the least. However, she seemed incredibly ecstatic, ready and waiting to learn without the slightest hesitation whatsoever. Well, in hindsight she was always the more cooperative of the troublesome duo, and the very fact that she was, at the moment, sweet and easy to handle, meant that he could drill more information into her skull before she took off to the roads again. She was an attentive student, unlike Jaden, who fought him every step of the way. So Yusei decided to let his guard down a bit.

He got into the passenger seat, put on his seatbelt, and leaned back. They were in a city setting this time, but since everyone was at work, there wasn't a lot of traffic around, giving them a couple hours of practice. He turned to Alexis. "I'll tell you where to go, alright?" he said gently.

"Got it." And with that, the familiar engine sounded from the front. Immediately, Alexis drove away from the parking lot and into the wide streets. Though she was going a bit slow, Yusei thought nothing of it; of course beginners would go like that, and there was the chance she was still trying to get over her fight with Jaden. He took a deep, relaxing breath and pressed his forehead against the window.

Then he heard a honk from behind.

Alexis stayed where she was, calmly driving through as Yusei turned toward her. "Take a left."

Obediently, she turned on the signal and swerved the car with ease, all the while surveying her surroundings and making sure no one else was in the way.

He had no idea what Jaden was talking about.

"Okay, keep going straight. Speed up a little." She did just that, but the impatient driver was still behind them. He cast a wary glance to the side mirrors, then to the needle. He narrowed his eyes. "Alexis, the speed limit is sixty. Drive a bit faster."

Her eyes widened, as she turned briefly to Yusei. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. People are starting to get mad."

She stared at him for a moment, before turning back, taking a deep breath, and slamming on the gas pedal.

Yusei shot back in his seat. Shapes suddenly blurred, and the tire screeches reached his ears painfully, as the car accelerated faster and faster. The angry drivers from behind were instantly kicked back by a cloud of dust and smoke. He felt the car rumbling from everywhere, and he instantly turned toward Alexis. "Slow down!" he shouted, his voice barely audible.

"What?"

"Slow down!"

Much to his dismay, she turned around, and leaned over. "Say again?!" she shouted, not noticing the upcoming flower shop she was careening toward.

Automatically, he gripped the wheel and jerked it to the left, shouting at Alexis, who couldn't hear, to hit the brakes. When she, at last, heard the order, the car to skidded sideways and suddenly lost its footing on the ground. It tripped over the curve and slammed right into the flower shop, crushing whatever object was inside mercilessly.

Yusei broke his neck that day.

* * *

The final time Alexis drove, she was with Akiza.

Akiza, who had been listening to Yusei and Jaden for the past few days, effectively decided not to get involved with the fatal driving lessons, since their own injuries were so very painful. Yusei was still having trouble speaking, while Jaden kept coughing up salt water every now and then.

Still, she didn't want to hurt her friend either; Alexis was just so fragile, and though at times she was hard to get along with, she was incredibly compassionate, so much so Akiza found it difficult to hurt her.

So one night, right before Alexis's driving lessons were to take place, Akiza woke up and slashed all four tires on the car, while hiding the spare ones in her room. She then opened the engine cover and removed the entire engine, throwing it over the cliffs and watching the infernal thing drown in the waters down below. She came back, hid the car keys, and simply waited until dawn had arrived.

When Alexis came to Akiza later, with that same, depressed look on her face, she ruffled the girl's head. "Maybe you just weren't meant to drive."

"Yeah, maybe…"

Akiza smiled sadly. "You want anything?"

"No…wait." Alexis looked up happily, took Akiza's hands, and pulled her close. There was a certain, dreaded excitement permeating from her frame. "We could always rent a car for the day, right?"

"W-well…"

"Please?"

And somehow, someway, Alexis ended up crashing into a steel factory, where Akiza's body was ripped apart by the various machines residing there.

* * *

Author's Note:

Aside from those three, Alexis miraculously didn't kill anyone else while on the road.


	9. Hearts

The ocean breeze covered the mountain helplessly, grazing the peaceful moments with summer dreams and cool evenings, all the while contributing to the growing humidity which accompanied the beginnings of summer. Verdant grass covered the pavements, and overgrown vines wrapped themselves tenderly around trees whose own, wild branches covered the view of whatever precious things the forest hid. Morning rays shown through the canopies, a mix of gold and green churning within the twisted roots and makeshift pathways, all of which were leading up to a glorious, Renaissance castle far ahead.

Gothic arches grazed the outer exterior, with a multitude of medieval balconies that made him think of a castle from some faraway land. Emerald rooftops directed their majestic, heavenly counterparts upwards. White curtains danced lightly to the wind's tiny breeze, the brief puffs of air emphasizing the kingdom at hand. The manor itself reflected some ancient, feudal philosophy, in which the very dream of residing there was nothing more than some fanciful illusion. Gargoyles reflected their prime objective, their large, skeletal wings opened frighteningly toward the direction of the wind. A large, rosette window grazed the middle of the castle, the colors already reflecting the world's perspectives within the upcoming afternoon, with a hazy, disillusioned angel standing before the finality of it all, a flaming sword in its left hand. It made the person standing before it wonder of the family living there, what kind of people they were, if they were still the lords of this land.

And at that point, the man could only stare at the fairytale palace looming toward him peacefully, ominously.

He wore a grey trench coat against the frosty dawn, his black, worn out gloves clutching the coat as he walked underneath the shadow of the building. Dark brown curls descended from his hood, while green eyes searched the building's environment here and there, looking for any signs of life which helped dispel the suspicion of undead inhabitants. Unfortunately, his prayers went unanswered.

He held his breath, then rummaged through his pockets before pulling out a small slip of paper. He squinted his large, naive eyes at the almost incoherent handwriting, before looking up at the castle. Yes, this was the right place.

He took a long, hard look at the upcoming, ornate wooden doors, then carefully, walked up, stuffing the paper back into his coat, pounding against the door. He grumbled underneath his breath, with thoughts of abandonment rustling through his mind every so often. His pupils kept darting back and forth, simply not understanding if this was just some kind of ill-mannered prank, or if a ghost had actually been the one to send for him. Either way, the entire scene was a bit unnerving, and it didn't help that no one else wanted to come along with him to the supposedly haunted castle. Why the master decided to send him here was an anomaly, and with such a proposal as well? Had the man gone mad?

He tapped his foot impatiently as he turned back to the unanswered door. After a few more minutes of waiting, he took two steps back, and screamed, "Hello? Portsmith here!"

There was no answer. He narrowed his eyes. "Hello?!"

Again, only silence.

"I've come from the Hearts!"

Still, nothing.

He bit his lip. What was he doing here anyways? This was all probably just some failed attempt to terrify him, and it was something his colleagues were incapable of doing. Whether it be a crime scene or some paranormal excursion those old, senile fishwives kept speaking of, hadn't he already proven that their endeavors were futile? After all, it took more than just a few jokes to scare him, more than a few lonely nights in a secluded, abandoned castle. What? Were they expecting him to come screaming down after wasting five seconds of his time? They were probably waiting for him right now, hiding behind some bushes, snickering like they used to when they were toddlers. What an insult.

He sighed, then spun his heel, and turned back. He was about to walk off the concrete porch, when the giant doors creaked open. "Portsmith?"

He jumped nearly a foot in the air, and hastily he twisted, his eyes wide with suspicion and surprise.

There was a young man standing in front of the door, with black, spiky hair, and azure eyes, the blue so very enchanting it made the man freeze. Unlike Portsmith's own pale skin, the man's was a bit tan, covered with a shade of gold that wasn't well-known in Wales. He wore a black, tattered sweater with black dress pants, an attire that made the man seem stranger than he really was. He had a choker attached to his neck, with strings wrapped deliciously around his throat until they all stopped at one, particular flower, which decorated the side of his throat.

Portsmith's lips slightly parted, as he stood there, mesmerized by the man. "I…I-uh… that is, w-we-"

"I already know," the man interrupted soothingly, taking one step out of that foreboding, elegant darkness. "You've come to represent him, correct? The Ace of Hearts?"

"Y-yes, I do…sir." Portsmith stuttered. "If…if I may-"

"Of course." The man opened the door then, and held it long enough for him to enter inside the domain.

The freezing realms within the castle had yet to mar Portsmith's awe, as he gazed at the soaring ceilings, all of which decorated with tiny, golden patterns of leaflets and nymphs. The bloody carpets adorned his footsteps while his feet walked across, succumbing to the luxurious appearance of the Gothic dungeon. There were two, rounded stairwells, all wooden, which led to that one, lone balcony, surrounded by broken, withered vines and two large dead trees. Tall, arched windows to the left of the room reflected the growing light outside, with velvet curtains brushed aside to give the room a somewhat nostalgic air to it. A large, empty fireplace was engraved to the right, with an iron rod sitting next to it, resting for the upcoming labor the summer will manage to stave away.

Settled underneath the balcony was a smaller meeting place. There were two large, black couches sitting across from one another, with a dark, wooden table between the two. There were two white candles on the table, each of them unlit. A ruined tapestry draped the wall carefully, and though Portsmith squinted his eyes, he couldn't make out the image.

The man shut the door. "I'm sorry, but my mistress is a bit busy at the moment," he said calmly, as he made his way toward the couch.

Portsmith turned toward the young man. "I see. May I ask-?"

"There was urgent business in Croatia," he stated, setting himself down at the center of the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and stared out at the representative with cool eyes. "But I assure you, she'll be back tonight."

"That's good then…sir! Sir…" he said nervously. "It won't take long; it's just…there's a few misunderstandings I would like to clear up between your coven and mine. I ah-"

The man sighed. "I'd rather you didn't do that. Please, just call me Yusei."

He blinked, apparently not comprehending the informal attitude that failed to decorate the air around the two men. He gripped his knees tightly, willing himself not to tremble in front of the host. He bowed lowly. "I'm deeply sorry, if I-"

"No offense taken. What's all this about anyways?" Yusei proceeded on, brushing aside his brash, insulting behavior.

"I um…well…" Portsmith bit the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath. Honestly, Portsmith didn't even think the Black Rose Witch existed, much less the entire coven itself; what's more, to think that such a powerful group as this one could even influence the other blue-bloods was just astonishing. Not to say that he doubted his master, though the speculation was, indeed, extremely doubtful.

He regarded Yusei evenly, while failing miserably to dispel his anxiety. "My master wishes to meet the Black Rose personally. He feels it necessary, in the event an emergency should arise."

"Emergency?" he quipped, a mocking tone subverted within his silky voice. "I highly doubt the Ace of Hearts needs my mistress for something as trivial as that. Besides, he has his own connections, right?"

"Y-yes. However," Portsmith countered, his master's words echoing through his brain's painful binds. "There have been rebellions from the surrounding regions, all of whom would like to overthrow your mistress. My master also has had the same predicament, and he suggest our groups form a military coalition with one another, to stabilize the balance of power."

"So the Ace of Hearts is in trouble? I find that hard to believe, considering how many soldiers the man has under him. He's a very good tactician too, at least from what my mistress says."

"Please. He only wants to avoid another disaster. We don't want another repeat of what happened with that organization before."

Yusei raised a delicate eyebrow as he settled back onto the couch. "Are you saying you still haven't caught them yet? Aren't the Hearts supposed to be the 'Demons of the Underworld'? And the coven is still relatively new-"

Portsmith narrowed his eyes. "Yes, but in a relatively short amount of time, the Black Rose managed to dominate over half the criminal syndicates internationally," he spouted, merely repeating his own master's words. "Combining both our strengths is the smartest move, since many of those rebellions are starting to take hold of your territories as well."

Before Yusei could interrupt, the man continued with his own little tirade. "And b-besides, there are our economies to consider. Our coven has more than enough resources and revenue to support three continents, so-"

"We'll consider it."

Portsmith blinked. "W-what?"

Yusei folded his arms against his chest. "I said we'll consider it. At the very least, this alliance is worth mentioning to my mistress. We'll send someone tomorrow, alright?"

He couldn't believe his ears. And after that feeble performance he was worried Yusei might've just thrown him out, or not even take him seriously. But this time, it really seems he did a good job, so much so he had to resist laughing his ass off all the way down the mountain.

* * *

Tauburn Wellington sat comfortably on his golden throne, donning white, silk robes which draped from his withered, decaying body. Black hair grazed his head, with subtle bald spots becoming more and more prominent, while his dark, beady eyes kept peering at his servants suspiciously, attempting to determine who was to live, and who was to die, at least for tonight. His fat hands laid disgustingly across his large torso, the stench of his fat diffusing throughout the air, while the maids kept readjusting his clothes, doing whatever it took to cover his already embarrassing atmosphere.

His old, wrinkled hands stretched all the way to the high, golden ceiling, the bright blue, spring skies now shining their supposed blessing upon him. What appeared to be diamond tiles were scattered across the throne room, and rounded arches adorned the open space. Aside from the marble statue centered in the middle of the room, there was nothing blocking the viewer from his majesty. And even when his unwitting audiences leave, they could still catch a glimpse of his glorious haughtiness from the murals outside, all of which emphasized his naked body. There was practically nothing he was ashamed of, and besides the wretched concubines that were to arrive in another hour or so, he felt elated, jubilant.

Light, anxious footsteps approached the king later. When Tauburn lowered his golden, mystic gaze onto the newcomer, he lazily turned his double chin toward the humble, pathetic man. He recognized him. "Putty, right?"

"N-no," the messenger stuttered. "Portsmith…sir…"

"Right. What is it? What'd you come here for?"

"I'd like to say that your plan was a great success."

Tauburn couldn't help but snicker a bit. What was this man talking about? Of course the plan was a success; the king was a genius after all. Now, if only he could remember which plan the man was talking about, then the situation would be less confusing.

When the silence prevailed, and gave away of his Majesty's disinterest, the poor Portsmith straightened. "T-the one about the Black Rose, sir."

"What of it?" he asked.

"They said…they said they will think about the proposal, and they'll meet with us tomorrow."

"Will the leader be attending?"

"I've no idea, sir. But they will be sending a representative to give their thoughts on the matter."

Success? The man was supposed to get the coven's leader here! Tauburn Wellington wasn't going to converse with a bunch of commoners! Only royalty was going to touch him, and anyone who decided otherwise will be executed! Besides, he was the Ace of Hearts, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be meeting with only the best people around? He rapped his fingers impatiently, his once happy mood deteriorating quite rapidly. "And how, pray tell, was the plan a success?"

Portsmith looked away hesitantly, though Tauburn could still make out the smile dancing slightly on his lips. "The Black Rose witch is a woman sir."

The very word "woman" immediately caught the king's attention, so much so he sat up then. "Have you met this person?"

"N-no. However, her representative did say-"

Tauburn never heard the rest of what his servant had to say. He simply cut the man off and stood. "Get everything ready! Food! Dance! Music! Prostitutes! Drink!"

Portsmith stared up at his master then, with those insulting thoughts persisting throughout his mind. Before he could open his mouth, the king cut him off with a very hard kick to the stomach. The man flew away from Tauburn, his saliva dropping on the robes which nothing was ever supposed to touch. He watched pleasurably as the servant writhed in pain. "Did you not hear me?" he growled. "GO!"

For the rest of the day the Ace of Hearts watched as his servants trampled over one another to fulfill that one, simple wish.

* * *

The Hearts Coven was an infamous group that controlled ports in Brazil and Venezuela, and they've also have a hand in the various drug cartels in Italy and Mexico. Hong Kong was where they would normally operate, though they've been showing signs of expanding to Tokyo and Beijing. One of their main goals was to worm their way into the Democratic faction in southern Vietnam, where they'll be able to operate on their disorganized administration, and though with the fact that same faction will be able to provide sick entertainment for the Ace, it seems the only reason why they're even interested in that region was…just because.

Though they've got a few major cities under their control, it doesn't change the fact that in the end, that group is surrounded by Spades and Diamonds. The leader's diplomatic skills are less than satisfactory, and his nature his displayed for everyone to see, which makes him an easy target for flattery and vain sensibilities. There was also no clear organizational hierarchy; in fact all those high-ranked positions were either the result of favoritism, nepotism, or anything _else_ that might as well have destroyed that fool's reputation. The officials were mediocre at best, and while there were a few exceptional talents hidden somewhere beyond that pile of trash, more or less that coven was easy to disband. Corruption ran rampant within that administration, and aside from elitism and the aristocracy, it appears the rebellions were also beginning to take its toll.

Was now the time to take over?

Akiza smirked playfully, caressing the mirror with one, long finger, her red dress spilling over her legs, the loose fabric descending along the dark, wooden floors. Her feline eyes kept gazing back at her reflection endearingly, though her pupils would always go back to that stray silhouette watching her warily. "You're in a good mood, aren't you?"

"Can it," Yusei grumbled, as he walked over to her. He stopped, his face a mere few inches away from hers, as she turned, meeting his unspoken challenge willingly. "You were listening, weren't you?"

"Of course," she stated happily. "Portsmith, wasn't it? He thinks he's got me fooled, right?"

"More or less. The Hearts aren't exactly quality pawns to keep around. They've ruined their image with that idiot leader of theirs."

"Naturally," she answered. "We were the ones who took out Fallen, but they never even made _that_ simple connection yet. The evidence was easy enough to decipher, correct?"

"Yes, from what I can tell, at least. A majority of the syndicates still treat you like you're a legend. No group can accept the fact that you exist."

"That's right. If I exist, that means my power also-"

"Scares the hell out of them," Yusei finished easily. "Though they're no longer human, they still have a tendency to block out any unpleasant threats attacking their own autonomy. Take away their vested interests, and they will fight back."

Akiza sighed. "What are the chances he's figured out I'm the one who started the rebellions?"

"Slim to none. All that man's interested in is women and food. I still don't understand why I had say mistress. Wouldn't it have been better for everyone if we concealed your gender?" He stared at her for a moment, then groaned at whatever thought was hidden beneath his face. " _Akiza-"_

"It's not what you think," she interrupted calmly. "This _is_ my responsibility after all. I've let this little friendship drag on too long, and now he thinks he's got choices. He probably believes he can submit me to his own foolish pride."

She slid her gaze toward Yusei. Her hand slipped from her side and stroked his cheek slightly, her fingers trailing over his jawline before making its way to the back of head. Her fingers toyed with his hair for a bit, before grabbing it and forcing him toward her. "What'd you think I should do?" she whispered. "Impale him with his own lusts? Drown him in those crimson sins he's struck out against himself? Suffocate his poor, dead heart before he finds a chance to regain his senses?"

"I wonder what your little boyfriend would think if he saw this." he replied back, his own thumb stroking her throat. "As for all the other groups."

"He's not my boyfriend," she reminded darkly. "He was a toy I got bored of. That's all."

His lips brushed her collarbone slightly, before trailing toward her cheek. "My, how heartbreaking."

* * *

Alexis stared down at the tiny thing, her big, brown eyes wide with determination. She was crouching down, hands to her knees, curled up in a very tight ball, as she engaged the bullfrog in a staring competition. Her white, tattered dress rubbed off against her knees, the Victorian cloth dragging along with it specks of dirt and twigs, while her combat boots trampled against unborn buds which still refused to bloom. Her bare shoulders emphasized her petite frame, along with white, see-through sleeves that draped all the way to her knees. On her neck lay a white collar consisting of strings and a chain which draped around her collarbone, leading up to a single white rose to the side.

Jaden stood a few feet away from her, with a stop watch in his hand, counting down the hours since this ridiculous contest began. However, since he couldn't help but be a bit fascinated both by the girl's curiosity and the obvious dullness of the situation. His black, torn hung tightly to his chest, with a silver chain that clung to his elbows easily, along with a black corsage attached to the fabric. He wore black dress pants, with an elongated silver feather decorating his leg. The very same collar adorned his neck, the scheme mirroring that of his brother's than anyone else. He found himself patiently waiting for the whimsical amusement to be over, so they could, at the very least, make their way back to the castle without difficulty.

The boy, fortunately, noticed the evening skies and began pulling his lover away from her competitor, who was croaking victoriously. "Hey! Wha-?"

"We're almost there," Jaden dismissed, tugging the girl back to his side. "The sooner the better, right?"

"Did you hear him?" she grumbled as she straightened herself, the two walking ahead on that dirt stricken path. "He was making fun of me! What kind of response was that?! Shouldn't he say, 'Good game', or 'Let's meet again sometime', or-"

"You need to get out more."

"Why're you complaining? You were watching too!"

Jaden barked a harsh laughter, before changing the subject altogether. "Death is always a nice thing, you know?"

"Like hell!" she shouted back, grabbing his face with both her hands. He wormed his way out of her grip, placing both hands to her side, with his fingers in hers. "We've already carried our orders, but if we don't hurry, Akiza's gonna cook again."

Jaden blinked. "I thought we were going out."

"Death by bad food," Alexis whimpered, shuddering at the thought of such an unfortunate, callous end. Her wide eyes turned to her lover for a moment when the conversation ended. Her hand wrapped around his arm, and she began nudging him, asking silently for him to continue on the barrage of words. After a little while longer, he gave in. "Death by choking."

She smiled happily. "Death by smelling."

"Death by humiliation."

"Death by poison."

"Death by stomach acid."

She giggled then, reminiscing on the Ace of Hearts's unfortunate end. "Death by puking."


	10. Witch

Medieval candlelights down below gave way to a sea of bliss, forever coating the sick, twisted sins which lay beneath. Few structures covered so brilliantly that line of sight, with the far off ocean glistening from beyond anyone's reach. Golden, crisp lanterns lighted the dark pavements, and along with it shadowy tourists from which the lines began blurring between silhouette and dream. Prostitutes waited impatiently for their charges to appear, an eternity passing so easily before, at last, they were finally able to work, though at that point, their masters were less inclined in celebrating. Shops, taverns, and brothels kept up their bustling pace, swinging drinks from here to there, all the while forgetting the pathetic, pitiful positions they hold during daylight. Unknowing travelers passed here and there, with unsuspecting mercenaries and soldiers strolling to and from the city gates, all the while ignorantly brushing aside the manors which loomed so very far away.

And from all this, however mundane their activities may be, Nikolai observed them, a small smirk escaping his throat.

His body leaned against the tower door, and though he caught a few stray crows here and there, is eyes never left that trivial entertainment so happily displayed before him. The black mini jacket did nothing to shield him from the growing arctic air, and black leather plants callously exposed him to the icy elements. A small, silver pocket watch strayed from his dark velvet undershirt, the needles decorated with two, skeletal wings, both of which matched perfectly the malevolent thoughts surfacing from beneath his brain. Dead, blue eyes searched the normals for anything abnormal, with black bangs reflecting the nightmares he was planning to bestow upon the feudal lord.

He narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head. Though familiar footsteps approach him so readily, his murderous, sophisticated playfulness never faded. His expression visibly softened when he turned.

"Christoph." he greeted, never bothering to hide the surprise in his voice.

The tiny boy nodded, slipping out from underneath the arch to accompany the vastly disappearing lights. Brown strands mixed purposefully with black, and while his eyes were a brimming, vibrant hazel no warmth came from them. Darkness, which had already etched his pupils, spread across his corneas, until finally, that pure white was mixed with a bit of grey. A result from today's latest trials, he imagined. "I didn't think I'd find you here."

"Neither did I. What brings you out here? Belletrix blow another fuse?"

Christoph shook his head, as he walked toward the older sibling, hands shoved in his pockets, with that same uniform glaring at their frostbitten surroundings. He sat himself on top of the edge of the tower, his legs dangling in the air, as the wind endeavored pulling him away from the present with very little success. "Sister dearest is out on another mission," he answered. "Apparently, the Black Rose has been spotted in Kenya, so she's going in to investigate."

The smile faded from Nikolai's lips then. Christoph could still make out the disappointed frown now adorning his face, even with the fading evening up ahead. He sighed, and threw his head back, his flesh relishing in the frozen air. "I understand how you're feeling, but it's not like we can do anything. We're to wait until further orders. Nothing more."

"You were close to Mree too though, weren't you?" Nikolai asked, his dark glare directed toward the seemingly carefree boy. He shifted his gaze back to the crowds of people, all of whom now traced lines of interest and curiosity into their faces. "She was in the hospital when Amaryllis took her out."

"I heard," Christoph replied quietly. "Lost her sanity over a couple of kids. Out of all of us, she was probably the strongest, but then again-"

"Her kindness was what led to her downfall," he interrupted, strolling toward Christoph with that same, emotionless face. "She was the oldest, yet she was so very naive and innocent. I've no idea how she managed to become Commander."

There were more and more people gathering from beneath the balconies. Off to the distant, the city gates were opening, and though the growing crowd covered most of the view, the siblings could make out the brief outlines of a cart coming near the entrance. Toward the middle of the city, men and women, children both big and small, were gathering wood for an upcoming ritual that so frequently takes place here.

Christoph simply shrugged. "Even with those burdens, I still admired her. Remember, when she used to give us a bit of honey whenever we were sick? Honey, with milk and a bit of lemon-"

"We were all pretty childish back then, weren't we? But even in that state, Meredith should've been able to fight back; she wasn't that far gone."

"Maybe it was a mercy killing."

"What?"

Christoph closed his eyes, before reopening them again, Nikolai walking toward the edge, only to see the villagers now setting up what appeared to be a large hearth to the center of a dramatized stage. As of now, the citizens were gathered near, a majority of them middle-aged women with nothing better to do. They could see the men and women strapped to the cart, most of which women, a few men, and one child. Some were crying, pleading for their lives as they kept begging their immature juries to let them live, while others were silent, both dignity and pride radiating from their feeble, vulnerable frames.

"Sorry," Christoph murmured. "Just ignore me."

"A mercy kill?" Nikolai repeated calmly, as he watched the constable drag the poor victims down the cart. "Though there weren't a lot of options at the time, I don't think Mree would've been so craven as to allow the Black Rose to end her so easily."

"There were no signs of struggle," Christoph countered silently. "And she died with a smile on her face."

"You were the one who did the autopsy?"

"I was. From the body alone, there weren't any recent wounds. I tested for heavy metals, but there were none. Besides, you and Belletrix interrogated every doctor too, remember? And they all said the same thing."

"They'll say whatever just to save their own skins."

"True, but in this case it's obvious."

The victims were just dragged from the carts, and were now being forcefully escorted to the unlit pyres nearby. Even in this darkness, Nikolai could see the scars which were now being reopen, the bleeding as the prey was led to the pole that was now being tied in place. Those old, envious women began their jeering, insulting, spitting, doing whatever they could to make the descent to madness a more pleasurable temptation than it already was.

"I don't believe them."

"What more do you want?" Christoph asked finally. "Our branch is already dysfunctional as is, even with Belletrix in charge. And the Black Rose is already making things more complicated than it has to be; it's a miracle that _bitch_ hasn't attacked us yet."

He scoffed. "Where's your pride?"

"I'm not that humble. Ah, they've started the burning."

The victims were all strapped to the stakes, their agonizing cries piercing the air so hatefully, begging for one last chance, for one last plea before finally being sentenced to an inevitable judgement. They were all looking out at the audience, all of whom were cheerfully screaming for the witches to be burned, all of whom have given their testimonies, however demonic they were, all of whom standing there, the wills in their hands, as they discuss the latest financial proceedings gained from this execution. The old crones all stared hungrily at the victims, demanding for one last performance before the killings were realized. Much to their relief, their prayers were answered.

And as the two brothers watched the burnings, shattering screams grazing the night air, Christoph couldn't help but shiver. Nikolai noticed then, and sighed, saying the thoughts that were so painfully taunting the boy's mind. "You know, we could be the ones down there, burning at the stakes."

"I know."

"Funny." He leaned forward, squinting his eyes just to catch a glimpse of the young girl, whose flesh was already beginning to crack. "Every one of those people are innocent. And the real monsters are just sitting up here, watching everything."

"Accused witches were what they called them, I believe."

"I see. How very tragic."


	11. Movie

"The Room?"

"Yeah! A lot of people were talking about it this morning!"

"Huh," he whispered softly, examining both sides of the CD before turning away from the dry hyperactive blonde, who was plopping herself on the bed. Her toes kept rubbing the floors profusely, her heels a grayish brown from falling in the mud this morning. She still had her obelisk uniform on, though the pristine white was ruined by her clumsiness, as well as the once golden, innocent tinge her fellow students managed to claim. Her tattered, blue gloves were sitting on the edge of her pillow, alongside a clean, unsullied pink ribbon which was more than likely going to suffer the same fate tomorrow.

The boy, on the other hand, discarded his red blazer on a lingering chair nearby, with his black shirt also ruined by the ever beautiful klutz sitting before him. There was still a slight trace of dirt which blended so well with his hair, the strands enveloped by earth and irritation. The hem of his jeans were splattered by grass and mud, coupled with a few scratches, an undeniable consequence from trying to help the girl out of her predicament.

The two lovers were in the girl's room for the night. The fairylike dorm room consisted of more than enough room to make her feel like the only person left in the world. The constant rapping from both the wind and the trees never completely soothed her either, considering how familiar sounding they were to ghosts, ghouls, and whatever else her overly imaginative mind could possibly think of. In truth, though she's had to stay alone most of the time, she was just too scared to adjust; it seems that out of the both of them, she was going to have the hardest time playing her character, despite the fact she was an excellent actor.

So, in order to alleviate her fears, the pair decided to watch a movie, a classic everyone's heard of, yet never watched. The girl was the first to come across this rare delicacy, which resulted in tonight's exploits, all of which have nothing to do with why they both were so filthy.

Jaden opened the CD cover, scrutinizing the disk with a curious gaze. "99 minutes."

"It's short," Alexis proclaimed. "We've got a test tomorrow.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that. You sure it's good?"

Her head bobbed up and down as she folded her knees inward. "I mean, everyone seems to like it! But they've got a lot of weird traditions…"

He turned to her, balancing the CD on the tip of his fingers. "Weird how?"

"Well, for one thing they'd bring in footballs and spoons, and they'll all be laughing about something." She leaned over. "Is it a comedy?"

"Romantic drama."

"How dramatic."

"Right." Carefully, he opened the DVD player, and put the disk in. The screen flickered suddenly, briefly staying on that hypnotic blue before fading to the black. When the copyright screen appeared, Jaden slowly walked back toward Alexis, before falling on the lush, silky bed.

His muscles groaned miserably. The fatigue kept him down, and though he shifted his weight to see the screen, he winced at every movement. On the other hand, Alexis curled up next to him, placing her head on his bruised collarbone, before giggling maniacally. "You didn't need to do that you know."

"Shut it."

"But it was still pretty heroic of you," she whispered, her breath trickling down his ear.

He turned to her hesitantly, grimacing in the dull ache erupting from his leg. "What were you doing down there anyways? It's not like you've got a lot of friends yet."

"Well no…got a lot of stalkers though."

"Who was it?"

"Don't know. Said he was a detective, I think" she answered aimlessly, her eyes staring at the trailers which now grazed the large screen. "Remember that guy?"

"What guy?"

"That guy. I think you decapitated him. No, you did; I've still got the doll."

"Right. What about him?"

"The stalker was asking about him. He got kind of nosy though."

"So that was _his_ body down there?"

"Yeah. I left a suicide note."

"Huh. Hey, it's starting."

* * *

"Alexis?"

"What?"

"That's not a movie. That was just bad porn sprinkled with horrible acting."

"I see that now."

* * *

Author's Note:

I recommend watching "The Room." It managed to get a whopping $1800 in the box offices.


	12. Unstable

From what anyone could recall from their vague experiences in history, the Industrial Revolution was supposedly a golden period in technological innovation, allowing humanity to advance their societies and "improve" their standard of living. Albeit falling standards of morale, increasing clashes between the bourgeoisie and the elite, as well as the continuing rampant onslaught of racism and the stirring of what would be known the American "Civil War", it was perhaps a wondrous epoch in which society would grow into a more…appropriate place, for citizens to live.

All of which, of course, were stereotypes, and would later be proven untrue.

The Black Rose coven was among the first to discover that.

* * *

Akiza sat uncomfortably between the two teens, their arms crossed, eyes glaring at each other with the utmost malevolence. She shifted her gaze between the two, playing with her fingers reluctantly, all the while endeavoring to come up with ways to, at the very least, remove _some_ of the awkwardness from the atmosphere. Unfortunately, she would fail every single time, and the result would be a hideous blush which would decorate her face, making the already nonexistent conversation even more embarrassing.

They started acting like this a couple of weeks ago. At first, Akiza barely noticed the tension, but as more and more time passed, with the somewhat playful exchanges between the two becoming more and more violent, the witch decided it was time for an intervention. All of which, rightfully, exploded in their faces and accumulating in the predicament they were now in.

She stiffened when the silence persisted, as she brushed away her bangs. Finally, she decided enough was enough. She took a deep breath, and gave the two a long, hard stare.

"What is this?" she asked. "Why'd you both drag me into this?"

"He started it," Alexis muttered.

"Like hell," Jaden replied stubbornly.

Akiza rubbed her temples wearily. "Guys, we're not going to get anywhere if you keep behaving like this."

Alexis simply shrugged. "I just want an apology."

Jaden scowled. "Screw you."

"Okay, okay, calm down," the witch whispered softly, spreading out both her hands so that she could alleviate some of the pressure. She kept groping for words, pouring some incoherent gibberish from her lips until finally, a strange idea came to her mind. She clapped her hands. "Alright…why don't we try a little something? A um…a game!"

Alexis stared up at her with those innocent, wide eyes of hers. She cocked her head. "What kind?"

"Well…ah…it's a question game," Akiza fumbled. "You just ask the person a question, then the person you asked will either have to respond yes," she turned to Jaden, who was still sulking heavily, refusing to look at anyone at the moment, "or no. I'll ask the questions, and you both will answer. How does that sound?"

The blonde glared at the brunette, eerie, steel brown eyes settling upon his back. There was an emotional war raging inside the two, the chaotic attacks invading each enemy's personal space, until at last, someone had to withdraw. They both nodded haughtily and answered with a resounding, "Fine."

That of course, didn't assuage Akiza's fears. Considering she didn't even know what this new fight was about, and aside from the fact the pair were always so very pigheaded when it came to one another, this was a challenge indeed. Still, she brushed the discouraging thought away and gestured them forward. She grabbed their wrist and sat down on the floor cross-legged; likewise, they did the same, though after the action they scooted away from one another. She ignored the physical coldness and smiled; right now, she was a counselor. "Right, I'll go first, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Got it."

"Alexis?"

"Hmm?"

All past suspicions were dredged from Akiza's mind at that moment, and when she laid eyes on the girl, Akiza couldn't help but notice all the inconsistencies with Alexis's behavior, from constantly wandering in the kitchen, to staring out at the young girls working in the factories, to even stalking of the latest corrupt politician and calling in favors the Black Rose originally saved for later. It didn't help when the witch also saw Alexis out near the town's various apothecaries, asking the herbalists and physicians questions on autopsies, killings, and, most recently, poison. Yet she's been a perfect angel to every traveler that's come her way, whether it be merchant, prostitute, businessman, or any refugee or criminal that needed a shelter to stay at, and when they left her care, they seemed to be perfectly healthy.

Then it hit her.

"You've been sneaking poison into Jaden's food, haven't you?"

At first, Alexis froze. Akiza could see her contemplating on if it'd be better to lie or not, or if her previous accusations were even correct. Akiza kept up her blank, glazed over stare, and though she couldn't see, she knew there was a smug grin on Jaden's face.

Finally, the girl conceded. "Yes, but only because-"

"Ah!" Akiza held up her hand. "Yes or no, remember?"

Shamefaced, she nodded.

"Alright." She swirled over to Jaden, who was now caressing a very prideful expression on his face. He was paying no attention to the leader, which helped tremendously.

Unlike Alexis, Jaden was suspicious of everyone he meets, and he wasn't as trusting as his girlish counterpart. However, he also showed his fair share of strangeness, giving frightening glares to every man that came Alexis's way, staring off at the chains that were usually lying in some forgotten dungeon. He wasn't sadistic, nor was he as psychotic as his lover, but he didn't necessarily enjoy pain either; if anything, he would try and avoid it altogether. She would always, catch him watching the manic girl sleeping, and lately, there'd be times when he would watch her for hours on end. And not only that, but Alexis also had a lot of peculiar bruises on her wrists and legs, as well as rope burns around her neck.

But she had her own experience; she knew his motive, since, of course, she's had it before. She crossed her arms. "Jaden?"

"What?" he said pleasantly.

"You're trying to control Alexis. With um…chains…and other sharp items?"

The silence said it all.

When he tried responding back, Akiza narrowed her eyes, and before long, he sighed. "Yes."

Okay, that's cleared up.

Akiza returned to her original scenario, the one with the two inseparable lovers who seemed to bear some morbid grudge against each other for one reason or another. She leaned over. It just wasn't possible; Alexis would never hate Jaden, even if he dismembered her with a chainsaw and tossed her bloody pieces in an incinerator. Those unstable feelings were similar on the other end. Their obsession with one another was just too big for that, and it didn't seem like they were insecure either. It just wasn't like them to feel possessive…

…on a social level.

Crap.

"Alexis?"

"Oh. Y-yes?" she stammered, the happy smile she had disappearing in an instant.

"You hate it when other people are looking at Jaden…aside from me, right?"

"Well, of course!" she proclaimed proudly. "Who wouldn't be?"

She turned to the boy. "You feel the same way too, right?"

He shifted his weight, and looked at the witch uncomfortably. "Yes."

"But…you both realize that if you monopolize one another, you'll never grow, correct?"

"Yes," they both said robotically.

Akiza huffed. "Alexis, Jaden, you two are both clinically unstable. I promise that neither one of you will leave the other's side, alright? Mostly for my own safety. And because I'd rather see a pair of psychotic lovebirds than just another obsessive…stalker…exes, and because you both are like family. Got it?"

Alexis blinked. "But that's not what we were even fighting about."

"…Come again?"

Jaden leaned back in his position. He stared at the Black Rose for a few moments, before, once again, regaining his previous disposition. "A knife or a gun. Which would you prefer using?"

* * *

Author's Note:

My lords prefer guns.


	13. Trash

The hallway shimmered with a sea of graceful, scandalous aristocrats swirling from one end to the other, their toes lightly touching the tip of the marble, all the while swinging their partners wildly. Hands clapped softly to the tune of the evening lullabies, never once slowing down and allowing quick relief to the similarly loveless musicians, who were, by now, drawing out their instruments for another crescendo. Movements adorned the dark lights from above, the chandeliers reflecting whatever was left of that corrupted enjoyment from long before the guests even arrived. Dresses, both dull and vivacious, caressed their gentleman counterparts, the hems grazing the floor and sweeping away the remnants of whomever a master was punishing; thankfully, the bloodstains have all vanished, leaving tonight's entertainment a bit more sophisticated and adoring. Silver masks were firmly planted on each individual's face, as the leaders gazed down at their partners blankly, with only their lips to convey their twisted, pent-up emotion they've manifested from timeless tales and legendary conquests. Each gripped their acquaintances passionately, reluctantly acknowledging the advantages resurfacing from the night's tainted beauty.

From within the shadows, a small audience gathered near the windows, surrounding the dancers with envious looks and hesitant dispositions. Like the dancers, they were dressed finely for the evening, however, only to observe a performance to which none of them were invited. The glittering jewels which adorned the plentiful actors and actresses were absent to the silhouettes, and unlike their graceful masters, the onlookers proved no tact in the political seduction that was already beginning to take place. Temptations aroused from every corner of the room, the mirrors reflecting meticulously the onslaught of morals, for which their masters were known for. And they all shuddered at the scene, though no blood had been shed yet.

The distant clock rang truthfully throughout the dance hall, its melodic elegies echoing from dancer to dancer, and in it, twilight began.

Carefully, the dancers slowed to a halt, scurrying off to the side, grabbing whatever partner was thrust toward one another. Their frowns suddenly became wide, eerie smiles, and their eyes grew large, as they shoved away their servants and turned back happily, snickering with glee at the next unfortunate victim that dared cross that familiar line of injury. But as the seconds passed, and that shallow excitement drew to a close, one by one, their smirks slowly disappeared, the pendulum leaving them all behind on their final realization.

Nervous whispers erupted from the crowds, as they anxiously peered at one another, trying to find the two opponents. The tension rose from the atmosphere desperately, clawing at the dancers' throats, while that strong, everlasting presence slowly approached the stage. They all murmured, leaning forward only a tiny bit just to catch a glimpse of the duel.

And finally, one of the challengers appeared.

He tore off his mask, tossing it aside disgustingly, while revealing himself in front of the dazed crowds, as he forced down his existence upon them all, his bloodlust radiating from within every vein in their bodies. Dark, hazel locks cascaded from his skull, with bright, emerald eyes, the pupils constricted to the point they were like that of daggers, waiting impatiently for the prey to arrive. Tan skin smoothly glided over his flesh, fitting his skin so lovingly with that of the golden hallways, the mirrors looking at him quite lovingly. Though his clothes were ordinary, a simple black tuxedo with a white anemone attached to his left breast pocket, his appearance was enchanting, giving off a more dangerous air up close.

They all recognized him, and immediately, the masters' eyes were downcast, hoping to attain favor from the powerful, almighty Hermes.

No one ever bothered to notice the young lady emerging from the crowds.

She wore a long, black dress that fitted snuggly to her body, the skirt wrapping around her thighs before spreading out from the bottom. The entirety of her back was exposed, leaving only lace to hold the dress in place. Her burgundy hair was neatly pulled back, with a single golden feather keeping her bangs from unraveling. Wrapped around her throat was one, black rose, a crimson ribbon attached to the side. Unlike Hermes, she wore no mask, her feline, her aurulent eyes taking in the powerful coven leader with a weird, playful curiosity permeating from her delicate features. Pale skin shimmered from across the floors, leaving behind an imprint of her beauty from the few observers who were taken in by this strange woman.

Yet when they did, the masters all froze.

She stopped in front of Hermes, just a few feet away from his glorious aura. He analyzed her stance, the tension in his muscles building up with each moment passed. He nodded. "I see you are doing well."

"Likewise," she answered silkily.

"It's not every day we get to see you here."

"It seemed pretty urgent."

He narrowed his eyes. "I advise you watch your tone."

She cocked her head, her lips twitching to a small, feral smile. "I'd rather not. I was wondering how long you were willing to play out this little game, actually. Terribly sorry for not entertaining you sooner."

The man laughed off her challenge, all the while allowing her to play with the tips of her hair. "Black Rose," he started, "it's not fun if you keep up that attitude. You know why we called you down here."

"On the contrary. If it's for an execution, however-"

He scoffed then, folding his arms across his chest. "There're rumors that you have a coven underneath you, and a very good one at that."

Alarmed whispers immediately erupted from the crowds. Worried glances kept moving back and forth, the leaders shifting their weight unnervingly from one leg to the next. Bile rose from within their throats, some biting down on their cheeks to keep their jaws in place. The witch suddenly glared at them, and with that single, silent command they all fell silent.

She smiled satisfyingly and returned to the young lord, shrugging nonchalantly. "You wanted to see if it was true or not."

"Of course," he answered, narrowing his eyes. He took a threatening step forward, a slight frown dancing on his lips. "After all, you've been alone for two centuries now. It's unheard of for you to just instantly participate in our cruel, sick little game."

"Those rumors are true then," the witch stated.

Hermes ignored the panicked gasps. "Where are they then?" he hissed.

"I've decided to hold off on their public debut. After all," she said then, bringing her arms lazily to her side, "you did challenge me to a duel, didn't you?"

"Afraid of losing your possessions?" he sneered. "How many are there anyways? A hundred? Two hundred? There are leaders here who have thousands under their command."

Much to their shock, the Black Rose shook her head. "Three. I only need three."

Instantly, they all roared with laughter.

That was all? Three? Though the Black Rose was somewhat powerful, and she managed to grab what meager territory she could claim from the King of Clubs, there were only three! It was too pathetic to even comprehend! Men and land meant power, and power meant status within this world's merciless hierarchy. Even the worst of the leaders have at least fifty slaves under their rule, though the aspect never helped much. It was something no one couldn't conceive, something no one couldn't understand in the slightest.

And finally, when they calmed down, small traces of humor still left in their eyes, they stared at the Black Rose pitifully, and allowed Hermes to deal with this dissenter.

Well, she always was a good-looking girl. He's had his eyes on her for quite some time, and judging from not only her prestige, but her air and power, she could very well become his second-in-command, a well groomed subordinate who served both as his soldier, and as his concubine. She might as well just give herself up now, and he was all too willing to extend that mercy toward her.

He sighed, his eyes still endeavoring to find the three weaklings from among the servants. "I call your bluff," he said. "Not even Mistress Bathory would respect you now."

She simply smiled. "No. Perhaps not."

Jaden looked up from his textbook, catching sight of Akiza coming through the door, the same, fine drapery covering her body without the slightest reluctance. Normally, he would've dismissed her appearance, knowing full well what kind of activities took place in those conferences. However, his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to a sweet-smelling liquid which coated her pale skin.

Apparently, she hadn't noticed his curious gaze, and shut the door behind her. "Those two still out?"

"Well, it was a pretty bad accident. Yusei's got his hands full, trying to hold Alexis down."

"What were you two doing?"

Jaden merely shrugged. "Does it matter? Anyways, what happened to you? Got another challenge?"

She remained silent for a while, but finally, she managed to dismiss his concerns. "No. Just taking out some trash."


	14. Confessions

I don't know.

I don't know when this sick, twisted life of ours started.

I've show you our memories. I've show you our sweet moments together, the times we've shared, the ones riddled without tragedy and sadness, however few they may be.

I've shown you everything I could possibly have thought of.

And for you, who've been watching. You, who've been waiting all this time, with nary a dream or nightmare, please.

Please, listen.

* * *

Fallen was a masochistic organization that engaged in self-depravation and sadistic rituals. Since the Renaissance, the philosophers, scholars, and scientists have been looking for ways to achieve a concept called "immortality", a term used to describe a being that could never die, no matter how hard they tried. The founders of the group have taken children from mental asylums, hospitals, homes, churches, orphanages, anywhere conceivable that could present the vague idea of innocence, to use as test subjects. From what I could understand, children's brains were incredibly versatile, and although very weak, their nervous systems showed more promise than any other age group, a blank slate, they used to say. They devised experiments, conducted research, studied every possible notion that was available during that time, but unfortunately, they were empty handed after each and every trial.

However, after decades went by, and still no sign of progress being made with the children they've kidnapped, many of these men searched for alternatives to abandon the trials, from reporting to the police, to calling to question on whether or not the experiments were ethical. Because a majority of these men actually had consciences, they abandoned the project altogether, refusing to delve any further in what was forbidden. They reasoned that whatever was mortal _should stay_ mortal; there was no human tactic possible to extend a human life beyond what was necessary, and even if they there was, the creature would no longer be human. They persuaded donors to stop funding their research, and in the end, managed to shut down the project, proclaiming that there was no such thing as a "human angel."

Yet for the very few scholars who remained, for the few who were convinced that there was a way, for the few who have yet to lose their patience with "immortality", they simply brushed aside their colleagues' blasphemy. And rather than create an angel, they began to obsess over the idea of giving birth to a manmade demon.

As technology became more and more advanced, with new discoveries made, old discoveries abandoned for more prominent theories, the next generation of researchers managed to discover a substance, one that could reverse the aging process of a normal human being. Though the compound was still being broken down, the scientists managed to uncover enough to simply embed the substance into a living creature, producing what could be their intended goal. After countless more experiments, and more kidnappings which left a trail of living corpses, they finally managed to get the compound to work, manipulating its contents and developing what was, perhaps, a more vain version of human pride. I imagine it was a happy day for those scholars.

It all came crashing down when they came across one particular child. A girl, age nine, by the name of Amaryllis Nite.

She was born as a result of rape, in the Bethlehem Royal Hospital located in London. She was abused by the doctors; sexual assault, starvation, emotional, mental, and physical abuse, all of which culminated into a girl who was barely clinging to her own, pitiful life. By the time Fallen came to her, some of the researchers wondered if she was capable of handling even the simplest of procedures.

It seems, however, they were wrong.

After they removed her from the asylum's care, she became a special test subject, simply because she was stronger than any other, could take more than the rest of the test subjects could ever hope to achieve. She was more determined, more willing to go through long periods of torture, and suicidal experiments, if only to prove her worth to her newfound family. Eventually, they gave her the substance, and continued doing this for a while, before finally, she stopped aging, age 16.

From then on, she became a slave to the doctors and researchers. She was probably confused, I'd imagined, wondering why her wonderful family would treat her in such a cruel manner. Nevertheless, she would always try and escape, doing whatever she could to make it back to the Hospital, only for Fallen to stop her in her tracks. She couldn't do anything to save herself, couldn't fend for herself, though she'd managed to slaughter everyone the researchers told her to. I heard that the only thing she could remember was her name, and how much she hated it. If someone called her by that name, it meant they were after her. They wanted to bring her back, no matter how much she struggled.

It was that desire, I believe that manifested in her heart. A desire long enough that, in the end, allowed Amaryllis to slaughter the entirety of that branch.

She had abnormal amounts of calcium in her bones at the time. Combined with telekinesis, she could manifest those minerals to the base of her shoulders, ripping apart the skin and creating skeletal wings for herself, something she used to impale a majority of the residents there. Because of the special chemicals the researchers used to enhance her nervous system, compounds not even I could identify, she could induce hallucinations that might as well have created a hell on earth for her victims. She could play with memories, rearranging them, destroying them, creating her own, sick illusions of what life might've been like if not for the sad hand fate had dealt her.

From then on, she went on to kill hundreds more, destroying the organization on both the outside and inside, while laying tens of thousands of children to rest, their eyes having long since lost their light. She destroyed everything in sight, murdering, shattering, decimating whatever she could get her hands on, and without the slightest regret. She wasn't like any of us. She was beautiful, and perfect, and merciless, with neither a heart nor a soul to question.

One anomaly Amaryllis possessed, however, was the fact that no matter how many years she went on killing, how many times she's cried or screamed or pounded the world around her into dust, she never lost her sanity. And because of that anomaly, it was safe to assume that, during that time frame, the Black Rose was born.

* * *

My name was Christoph, at the time.

I was born to a mother and to a father, both of whom I have never seen.

I also had three older siblings, all of whom I have seen.

There was Meredith, the eldest, and the sister whom I love very much. She had silky black hair, and warm, brown eyes that only served to become more and more compassionate as the years went by, as well as pale skin that seemed to shimmer in the dark, a light among lights. Though she was the best out of all of us, there were times when her kind heart would get in the way of things, such as refusing to kill a person whom she grew to care for, or allowing herself to become attached to the victim, to the point where she would revoke her mission altogether and plea for their lives. She received so many beatings, and even now I could still hear her screams. But nonetheless, though I never took after her nature, though I looked down on her for sparing a life or even showing kindness to the strangers who could very much kill us with one simple stab, I loved her. Even after her kind heart stole away her sanity, and she lay in that mental hospital alone, suffering from those painful experiments; even after she writhed agonizingly for hours on end, pleading helplessly for the doctors to stop, I adored her.

There was Belletrix, the second oldest. Unlike Mree, her hair was blond, rough, curly from the callous way she treated it. Her skin was slightly tanner than Mree's, and she possessed feral emerald eyes, along with a sharp gaze that could destroy any one who attempted to come after her position, whether they were worthy or not. She was protective of all of us, and would do whatever she could to try and prevent us from being punished. She wasn't reckless, but calm, levelheaded, always one step ahead of everyone, our parents included. I believe it was her strong will that led her to take over Fallen. She became commander, outwitting even the demons that took precedence on the battlefield, demolishing every destructive experiment that had gone awry. She never showed weakness to anyone, even to us, and I believe the only time she did lose her composure was when she found out Mree had been killed, in the very place she sent the eldest to get help. Even to this day, I don't think Belletrix recovered from that.

There was Nikolai, the second youngest, and my only brother. Though his raven hair was similar to Mree's, his royal azure eyes were what captivated the attention of the scientists, the doctors, and the army. He had deep, golden skin, and in his face there was an ingrained expression of solemnity and seriousness. He was always silent, watching from afar, tracking the person of interest halfheartedly one minute, then formulating whatever plan came to his head the next. He was cold and calculating, and he never bothered bringing his emotions into things. But though he was always so very rigid in public, when either I or Mree pestered him about something, he would drop his facade and aid us in our work, if only to lighten the mood. Out of all of us, he probably knew what it was like to live a normal life, considering how often he would have to go out into the world to seduce men and women alike, before killing them later. He knew how to act, and it was only through his help that I managed to create a variety of different characters for myself, how I managed to break free from the laboratories and killings. I owe my freedom to him, even if I wasn't as stable.

We never played with toys, or went to parties, or laugh with other kids from the playground. We never went to a normal school, as others have done before us, nor did we have a remarkably innocent childhood. We were, I believe, exposed to the cruel, realities of the world very instant we were born. There were times we couldn't comprehend the acts going on around us, the crimson bestowed upon our tiny, feeble hands before we could even grasp the concept of right and wrong. Albeit Mree, who suffered from that kindness, from a very early age we learned to cast away morals, and instead rely on careful logic in order to arrive at our decisions.

We were subject to the same trials the Black Rose had. We went through the same, gruesome experiments, some of which ended in disaster. To avoid another mistake, the scientists instilled in us obedience by using the older models to keep us in check, threatening us if we should get even the slightest bit suspicious of our loyalty. It worked, it seems, and though we weren't perfect like the witch, we were still successful. I stopped aging at around 15, Nikolai 18, Belletrix 27. Because Mree showed signs of insanity and naiveté, she had to undergo more testing, taking mental steroids to keep herself from falling off an already crumbling cliff, with neither a friend nor ally to keep to herself.

While my siblings trained in the combat units of Fallen, I pursued research and development. I took a keen interest to studying the Black Rose's development, so I used my influence as one of the "successes" to take over the project for studying that substance, which allowed humans to pursue the realm of immortality. Within that century, Meredith became head of military and warfare, which made getting the materials to do my research a bit less difficult. Belletrix was second-in-command, and during that time, Nikolai became one of Fallen's top murderers, building up a fortune used to fund the organization altogether.

We were like aristocrats, monarchs in our own time.

Some time later, I became the director and lead researcher of the European Branch in Krakow. I managed to access the files that created the Black Rose, and identify the compound the old fools used to create the first demon. I bought a few of the experiments from the organization, and used the facilities to test my own theories. I combined that compound with other chemicals, herbs, blood from the failed experiments, all of which managed to, somehow, stabilize themselves, their molecular counterparts neither falling apart nor absorbing each other. The amino acids, for some reason, were truly stable.

I injected my solutions into the children, some of whom were already brain dead by the time I got to them. Some would writhe agonizingly, painfully, and simply die altogether, while others were mesmerized by the fluids, obeying my every whim and order without the slightest hesitation. By the time Fallen caught word of my little hobby, I'd already managed to replicate a safer, albeit weaker, version of Amaryllis Nite, though of course, the little brats were nothing compared to my siblings and I. Fallen gave me my own department, my own team of researchers that would create these little demons, and from then on, I abided to my little pursuit. I've little memory of the faces I've used during that period.

There was one child, however, that caught my attention, a little blond girl who stayed silent the entire time my researchers probed her. She was empty, quiet, her cold, dead eyes giving way to no light, none whatsoever. Yet whenever there was a living animal around her, a smile would adorn her lips, and when we released her, she would hunt that animal down and kill it. She would be crying, muttering incoherent words while she sat there in blood, with that same smile on her face. And since then, I called her Arisé _._

As time passed, the girl grew more and more erratic. Oftentimes I would find her sitting somewhere alone, with that dazed, dreamy expression on her face, with nary a soul in sight. She would stare up at the ceiling, her hands around the cage, as she shook the bars, tiny whimpers escaping from her lips. At first, I thought nothing of it; she did, after all, stop aging, and the pains that echoed throughout her body were natural. But as time passed on, and her sounds grew more incessant, I decided to take a look, only to reveal nothing out of the ordinary.

Three days later, I left for a conference in Bengal. There was a problem with the slave population there, and I, along with Nikolai, were going there to investigate. We thought nothing of it; it was just a simple routine check, and as soon as we were done, we could go back home. Nikolai had another royal to assassinate, so we couldn't afford to spend much time on that distraction.

It hadn't even been a few hours that I left, when word had gotten out that Arisé had escaped.

* * *

It'd been almost 200 years since Fallen's collapse. Even as I look back, I can't very well say I regret my decisions. The children I've experimented on, the lives I've taken, all of whom were dead the moment they arrived on my doorstep; in the end they were all unresisting, lambs to a slaughter that could never hope to contribute to their twisted, cruel societies. I've no idea what they wanted me to do, whether it was to kill them, or to use them to create the ideal soldiers, or as puppets for my siblings. They never told me anything, and I never bothered to ask, a concept that I still wonder about.

I sometimes ask myself if their families would want to see them this way, if that familial bond between members did, indeed, exist. Did parents offer the unconditional love they promised their child, or is it just instinct to protect the offspring? Was one mistake all it took to destroy a relationship, no matter how good it was before, no matter what the cost was in the end? Was family really tat important, even if the children were as useless as they were now? Would they be just a waste of space?

I asked Akiza about the notion once. She simply smiled, and requested to never bring up the subject again. After that, she took Alexis and I out for dinner.

 _Jaden Yuuki_

 _Thorn to the Black Rose_


	15. Play

"This sucks."

Yusei looked up from his book, his raven bangs falling over his eyes, as he regarded Jaden with a slightest hints of annoyance. The younger boy was slung over the beat up couch, splayed helplessly while choking on the very boredom he overly indulged himself in. Yusei blinked, before resuming his activity, never once giving a thought to the irritation he caused himself.

Carmel orbs slid toward the man. Jaden sighed, and repeated himself. "This sucks."

Again, no answer.

 _"_ _This sucks."_

Yusei frustratedly, put the book down, and glared at him. "So how was your day?"

"It sucked."

"Yeah, got that."

He pulled himself from his lazy disposition. "You know that stupid play Akiza's been fawning over?"

" _Romeo and Juliet_?"

"She wants me to read it."

"Still not seeing the problem."

" _Again."_ he groaned, collapsing back onto the couch with absolutely no effort. "We're gonna be in Italy next week, and she wants to make sure I 'appreciate the finer qualities in life'. The hell does that mean anyways?"

Yusei stared at him, knowing full well what the boy meant. The argument happened last night, from what Alexis told him. Apparently, it was a very brutal one, considering how Jaden was the one who stormed out, leaving the poor girl to deal with a very temperamental Akiza. It was perhaps one of the many times Yusei was glad he wasn't around. He would flinch every time he saw the blonde, who was now walking around with a black eye and broken-toothed smile, both of which, he might add, came from her abusive companions.

Although, of course, when Jaden returned, he himself wasn't exempted from the witch's wrath either.

Yusei sighed, recalling, the traumatic moments that stemmed from the two warring parties. "What'd you expect?" he asked then. "You called Juliet a dumbass bimbo."

He scoffed.

"Who deserved to die."

"So?"

"With Romeo cheerfully pissing on her grave," he finished, returning to his book with the utmost boredom enveloping his tone. "You should be grateful she let you off with a broken neck."

"I was being polite."

"Uh-huh. Yeah."

"I was!" Jaden shouted, sitting up rather quickly.

"So that _wasn't_ your lifeless body lying in that deadbeat alley yesterday."

"Exactly."

"…Jaden…"

"So you aren't going to agree with me on this?"

Yusei narrows his eyes. "What'd you think?"

* * *

Apparently Yusei had disagreed that night, for when the younger boy tried confronting his Coven Leader later in Italy, he was left impaled by wooden stakes and left as a Halloween decoration for all the children to enjoy.


	16. Hostage

Dark, torrential skies reigned from above, and in the midst of the nightmares, foreboding clouds reach a psychological focal point where the veil begins to break down. Processions of shadows danced onwards throughout the night, along with the storms that continued to graze its confused prey, lachrymose sounded along the horizon. Yet in that lone, dismal atmosphere, there was a facility, a group of buildings meshed together to stave off the devastating effects of the snow's neglect, warmed solely by humans and monsters and everything else in between. Crystal, azure windows glared back at the twilight, the metallic shimmers a reflection to see the clouded skies, devoid of any moonlight that could graze its hope.

Guards that once so devotedly surrounded the building are now taking shelter from the upcoming storm, the luxury of their own, pathetic living standards now taking form in their eyes. In the distance, strong scents of alcohol pitifully destroyed the charismatic image the organization attempted to build. Piercing screams, agonizing moans adorned the air, thoroughly entrenched within each particle of air chaotically racing about. Merciless tones reigned from the open cracks, along with the screams which broadcasted every dying moral from within the darkness, the demonic shadows already taking in the delightful hell they've never once tried to create. And in that moment, in that time, even a child could understand that, once again, human nature had taken over the sinful place, the very vessels the nature dwelled trapped within a delusional, prideful narcissism, with no hope of escaping. Psychological torments cascaded from the bend, and in that black heart of theirs, in that cold, callous song for which the entire branch sang, there was nothing. Nothing at all to redeem them.

Mud wrapped around her boots gracelessly, trying to shield whatever insects it could from the harsh winter wind. Crimson seams blew throughout the turbulence, matched with a black, stringed collar, with a single black rose dangling from the side of it. Strands of burgundy carelessly blew from behind, her shadow stretching toward the edge of the cliffs without the slightest hesitation, and any doubts she once might've carried were smoothly wiped away, her features now housing a delicate, seething rage for which she could calmly grasp at no cost of her own sanity. Pale skin shimmered from the tenebrous hell, and upon her lips there was a slight, demonic smile.

Slowly, her hands reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. "Everyone's in there, correct?"

 _Yes,_ a voice echoed from the back of her mind. _Alexis is on the west end, and Yusei's waiting for you in the central control room. You all have 10 minutes to take control of the mainframe, then get out without being cut to pieces._

Akiza smirked, turning away from the building and staring out at the weak, eroding ground that was already beginning to crumble away. Raging seas swept on their abyss, hearing neither prayers nor pleas from the inhabitants they've trapped below the surface. "You're awfully cynical today. Afraid your brother's going to die?"

Jaden scoffed. _Please. It was_ your _idea to put him that position to begin with. It's not like I have a say in it. In my opinion, it actually seems a bit cruel. I didn't think you'd have a penchant for playing dirty._

"Yusei agreed to it though. In a way, you should be scolding me."

 _You're being unnecessarily nice today._

"Of course," she answered, brushing away her wild bangs, revealing the feral, golden eyes that cast an inky black haze over the building. "You're cooking tonight."

 _Yay…_

"One last thing. Regarding their status; how are they?"

 _All neurological activity has ceased fifty years ago,_ Jaden replied emotionlessly. _It wasn't until a decade later did we even hear of this branch. Well, it's not like we could save them anyways._ He fell silent, a twinge of remorse left within his voice, but only after a few more moments, he returned to his calm, mental state, probing his leader on their actions. _Are you changing your orders?_

She closed her eyes. "No."

* * *

Yusei traced his fingers over the rim of the plate, watching the fluorescent lights shimmer with each move his shadow made. Hand resting below his chin, with a slightly bored expression on his face, he sat there, in front of the Queen of Clovers, the white dinner table coming so grateful between the two. Three unlit, black candles rested in the middle, with jewels of every kind grouped in the middle, giving off a bright, irritating glare for which Yusei had to resist turning away from.

He never bothered staring up at the leader of the group, and rather contented himself with playing with his dinnerware. It was until he heard a small giggle did he even acknowledge the woman. "I'm shocked," she observed in that haughty tone of hers. "I didn't think a hostage would be this nonchalant about your position."

"Oh?"

Her shadow shrugged, apparently not noticing the utter lack of respect in his voice. "They would all grovel at my feet, begging for their worthless, pathetic lives before being executed. Aside from you, no one had given me this much entertainment."

"How so?"

She smirked then, returning to her own plate. He heard her fork impale the decapitated head that was so conveniently marinated and seasoned with whatever left this branch can afford. "When my own soldiers caught you, your eyes reflected nothing. They were like the eyes of a dead person, an empty shell in the midst of the world's chaos. Were you abandoned by your mistress?"

He never answered, and left it to her mind to serve her own purposes. She did exactly that, then laughed, her rampant beats bringing about loud, rambunctious vibrations onto the poor table. Yusei narrowed his eyes, the annoyance building up inside, but he still refused to look up.

"I can't believe it," she breathed when she was done. "To think, the Black Rose actually abandoned her Queen. I didn't think she could be that idiotic, but she's proven me wrong yet again. I even have a hard time believing it."

"What I don't understand," he replies in an eerily calm tone, "is why you're relying on Fallen. For someone as strong as you, surely you've no use for their kind of power."

"Mutual exploitation," she answered gladly, taking a sip of the bloody wine from which her latest kill so happily gave. "I serve them, and in return, they give me a coven, land, power, resources…anything I could ever wish for. You already know the standards those aristocrats are using, right? After all, by now you should've made your public debut."

"What of it?"

"In this world, the more you have, the better off you'd be," she explains easily, gouging down on what seems to be an eye. She removes the traces of blood away from her lips, before continuing on with the conversation. "The only reason why the Black Rose is such an anomaly is because the witch has never taken on a coven before, nor did she ever have any interest in one. She's taken down so many of Fallen's major networks on her own, to the point where she's become a very big threat. You can understand why her having a coven is so very alarming."

He felt her dark eyes boring his skull, and he turned away then, his eyes downcast. "Either there's something she can't handle and she needs someone to help her. Or she's looking for lovers."

When he doesn't respond, she giggles again, this time a more malevolent, immature emotion coating her voice. "I see. Poor thing."

"You really are irritating," he murmured, before returning to his little, trivial activity.

"Still," she started, the chair pushing back. He could hear her slow footsteps echo throughout the banquet halls, the desperation alone making the bloody scents hard to swallow. He sees a white skirt leaning against the table. There was a pale wrist in his view, and moments later, he felt her finger tracing his collarbone, stroking his neck in that disgusting way of hers. Her eyes trail to the black rose strapped to the side of his neck, the thread providing a pathway to the morbid symbol. "You still have this ridiculous collar on you. Are you hoping she'd come back for you?"

"I wouldn't be wearing it if I thought otherwise."

"How sad," she muttered, her fingers tracing over his cheek. She leaned in, her rancid breath pouring over his ear. "Then how about this? I'll give your witch three days time to come for you. If she doesn't, then you're mine."

"I've no interest for something as shallow as this." His finger stopped its monotonous rhythm. He shifts his piercing gaze toward hers, a dark, murderous aura radiating from his frame. He stands then, not taking any notice of the woman. He ignores her amused stare, and shifts through the thoughts in his mind, before finding Akiza. "Huh, you're already inside."

 _You've done beautifully, my little Queen._

"Shut it," he hissed then, as he turned toward the Queen of Clovers, returning her own, vain smile. That look of utter shock, of complete betrayal, was the only thing Yusei had to look forward to during this entire ordeal. "Frankly, I don't find bland girls attractive."

Her face contorted into a twisted version of hatred for which Akiza carried for this branch. Neat, black hair that was once tied back in a bun was now slowly becoming more and more frazzled, strands of tiny hairs poking out from the tight chains. Her deep, red lips began trembling, her snow white skin reddening with each second passed in the humiliation. The pure, white dress she now sullied was coated with crimson stains, a testament to her poor eating habits. It wasn't long before she started trembling. "Y-you-!"

"Why're you making such an ugly face? I never allied myself with you to begin with. It's not like I betrayed you."

"Guards!" she screamed. "Guards!"

"I pity them," he mused. "Living a life of luxury, when in reality all you were were just lambs to the slaughter. The whole thing was just so putridly funny I had to watch."

 _You really are heartless, aren't you?_

"Should I just put her out of her misery now?" he asked then, the Queen of Clovers now reaching for the stray silver knife near Yusei's plate. "The child's delusional."

 _Fine. Come outside when you're done._

The woman never did try to run. The very last shred of pride was broken at that moment, and from beneath her veins the adrenaline began tearing down the very walls which kept her stable. The whites in her eyes were the only thing left within her heart was an empty vessel for which her emotions were already gouging away whatever sense she had left. Dark veins reached from her heart, the nightmares claiming her easily, and without delay.

Yusei could only smile, as he grabbed her wrist and broke it, rendering the knife useless. He stole the weapon away and stabbed her heart, removing one of the chambers with ease. As he watched her crumple to the ground, the brokenness still entwined in her features, he shrugged, throwing the knife down.

"You really are hopeless, aren't you?" he whispered, before walking away.

* * *

Jaden peered through the security cameras, his fingers tapping patiently alongside the keyboards. He smiles slightly when he sees Yusei coming out of the banquet hall. "Akiza, he's out."

 _Where's Alexis?_

"In the main courtyard. I've accessed the main firewall. We're actually ahead of schedule this time, so you can afford another check."

 _Destroy it._

Jaden blinked, as he leaned toward the screen, his eyes narrowed. Yusei's already disappeared, and Alexis was finishing off the last of the experiments. But they've yet to secure the mainframe, which would allow them to take control Fallen's main communication lines. It would give them a three month window to eliminate the stragglers. If they destroy it now…

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Without the main communication lines, we won't be able to track down the other branches locations, as well as the other coven leaders. Akiza-"

 _I'm ordering you to destroy the damn thing_ Jaden.

"But-"

 _Do it._

He started to open his mouth again, only to fall silent. He closed his eyes, and stood. "Got it. I'll meet you outside in 30 seconds."


	17. Lover

Yusei peered around the corridors aimlessly, his blue orbs making out the constant shadows from which the morbid loneliness continued to persist. Tiny silhouettes scatter around the bend, the stones reflecting back the cruel twilight throughout the cold, archaic reflections. Small cracks illustrated the nightmares that came so readily back caught his attention, with glimpses of decaying consciences slowly vanishing from his sight. The cold arches continue their salty tears, the walls relaying the cascading sorrow a clear trail for which the dirges could be sung. Lachrymose bounces off the walls, the echoes descending from across the hallways. There were no windows to catch the dreadful moonlight, no sanctuary for even the sinners and saints, but rather, a lone door, an iron cage that not even he could be exempted from.

He stops then, allowing Akiza to enter first. She smiles reassuringly at the newest member, her fingers straying across his elbow. "I'm surprised," she whispers quietly. "I didn't think you'd be this calm."

He shrugged. "I still don't understand why you have to bring me."

"Etiquette," she answers, calmly turning away from the curious boy, her pale, elegant fingers stroking the bars softly. Seconds later, the lock unlatches, leaving the two to descend further into the somewhat maddening tranquility. "It'd be rude if I don't show you off. Besides, it's not everyday you get to see something this rare. They all probably called this meeting to show off their shallow love interests anyways."

He pauses for a moment. "It's not political?"

"It is. However, everyone only thinks of influence and resources, as well as their physical needs, of course. They don't think about power or military prowess, But judging from the rumors alone, it seems everyone will be after you. You can thank Alexis for that."

He grimaced, allowing the witch to walk farther and farther in front of him. A couple of days ago, Jaden managed to break into one of Fallen's branches, and it was only through Yusei's recognition of the target did they go into destroy it. The operation would've been a success had not Alexis run into another coven along the way, while dragging what it seems to be one of the scientists' bodies towards the seas. Not only did they see the collar on her neck, but now, almost every coven internationally knows who was responsible behind the organization's sudden breakdown. It was an incredible feat, and though Akiza now commanded the respect her fellow peers, it's also thrown the group to complete chaos; rash and complex assassinations alike kept targeting them, and it's gotten so bad they've had to keep moving, splitting up when the time called for it.

Yusei looks up at Akiza, the unreadable distance alone carving the anxiety in his features. "Akiza-"

"Don't worry," she interrupted quietly. "They can't touch you. Not as long as you're with me."

"That's not what I meant. She didn't mean any harm."

"I know," she replies, much to his shock. The apprehension grows deeper when she started chuckling, reminiscing on the troubling moments. "She kept crying last night, and she wouldn't let go of me until she fell asleep. Honestly, the child's more trouble than she looks."

"It's another conference, isn't it?"

"That's right. Why?"

"You're laughing," he points out. "From what I hear, the last time you were there you murdered a coven leader. Shouldn't you be, at the very least, cautious about what you're doing?"

"Lord Hermes is none of your concern," she murmurs lightly. "And besides, you should thank me. It's _you_ rather, who should be afraid. It isn't every day the Black Rose actually brings a someone here. Step back a bit."

He did as she said. "So they won't allow me to speak then? Should I-?"

Akiza stopped then, and twisted her frame to where her face lingered toward his. Both hands were placed on his cheeks then, her forehead pressed to his, as her feral bangs placed themselves near her delicate face. "I don't want you to listen to them. I want you to listen to me, understand?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you that eager to break their rules?"

"Of course," she said then, her presence slipping away from him so easily. "I've done so many times before. It's not like they ever complained about it."

"That arrogance will be your undoing."

"But I belong to no one. There's no sane society that will have me."

He walks again, his heavy, black combat boots stretching through the shadows. "How lonely that solitude must be."

She smirks. "Whoever said I was alone?"

* * *

Chains dangled from the rooftops, a remnant of the dark, glorious past the covens once possessed. Black bird feathers entwined with the rusted metal, the fragile pieces already slipping away, the darkness claiming the abandoned atmosphere with its slow, lustful call. Lonely groans from above kept on with their elegies, and their darkest nightmares alone enough to lull the objects' hardened hearts to eternal slumber. Frightening delusions arose from the air alone, strengthened by the painful groans of the audience below, though a select few were spared from the unfair punishment.

They all surrounded the ring, their even eyes regarding each other suspiciously, remorselessly, doing whatever they could to see behind the facades for which each monster placed behind them. Lesser shadows shied away from the overpowering existences, their already humiliated mindsets embarrassed even further by their masters' mistreatment. Their trembling claws neither pried open the hidden meanings beneath what seemed to be amiable conversations, nor did they even bother to see who was coming through the door, the last of the leaders ready to meet.

The familiar depths of crimson hair shattered whatever peace was left.

Shocked, unpleasant tension kept relaying on each of their faces. Her black, high-heeled boots silenced the thick groans with their authoritative gleam, the red, tattered dress surrounding her legs as seductively as any other demon would, however untainted she was. She stares out at her audience, black, sleeveless gloves behind her back, and she nods toward them, a rather disrespectful attitude tugging at her lips. She was so calm, so cocky, that they hadn't even noticed the man who walked behind her, eyes down, carefully searching through his fellow servants, who were crying away from the arena.

She walks up the stairs then, the man in tow. She pulls out the metal chair and sits back along the surface, that same, haughty grin plastered on her face. The man leans against the wall, silently observing the supposed monsters altogether. One of the coven leaders clears their throat, and stands. "Now that we're all here…we've ah…Black Rose?"

The witch tilted her head, a tiny, confused light embedded in her pupils. "Yes?"

"Do not take trash into the meetings," he said then, his cool, aristocratic eyes glaring at the man, who callously ignores him. "Servants belong in the basement."

"He's my concubine."

Tiny gasps and whispers flood the meeting place, the nobles all scandalized by this revelation. True, they've all taken up lovers before, but to think one of their own would actually elevate someone to that status. It was surprising, to say the least, but to give someone that much influence, that much power; well, it wasn't a very pleasant subject matter to think of, especially when the man seemed just as uncooperative and unlikeable as his mistress.

However, the position wasn't incredibly stable, and the witch's affections were as fickle as the ever changing moon.

Their unfortunate spokesperson clears his throat. "We all understand. But this simply is not his place-"

She raises a precious eyebrow, as she leans against the table, one hand tucked away underneath her chin. Her elbow rested upon the cold surface, and automatically, the quiet reigns supreme. "It's fine. I've already given him permission to be here."

"Y-yes, but-"

"He is _my_ subordinate," she interrupted, an eerie calm settling into her feline eyes. "I shouldn't think anyone would have a problem with that."

"Which brings up our first predicament," a woman stated then, eyeing the witch with hateful eyes. "You've a coven, and you didn't bother telling us. You've carried out unauthorized attacks on Fallen, and what's more, you've already secured a concubine. You do realize what that means, do you not?"

"Of course." she answers lazily, toying with ends of her hair. "But in my eyes, he's already proven his worth."

"It's not about that," another chimes in. "It's about influence. When you pick a partner, it's supposed to benefit all of us, not just you alone." He narrows his eyes, his gaze picking apart the mysterious lover standing behind her. "What worth does he have to us? What are you possibly hoping to accomplish with-?"

"I'd rather him than anyone else." she stated. "Personally, I don't like any of the men here, and even if I did I doubt he could handle my power. Also," her gaze suddenly turned sharp, the gentle friendliness almost no one was accustomed to giving an aura of seething rage and malevolence, both of which managed to silence the man, "need I remind you who I am? I've no quarrel with you, but I won't hesitate to put you in your place. Surely even you could comprehend such as basic concept as that."

"We are all equals!" one fat man proclaims, his double chin bobbing up and down, his potbelly barely hidden through his tiny shirt. "You've no right to judge us this way!"

"Wrong again. The Jack of Diamonds pays tribute to me. Need I remind you of that?"

The spokesperson regains his composure, and sits then. "So your concubine also serves you as Queen? Don't you feel that a bit…overwhelming? Especially since this is the first time we've actually seen the man." He laughs awkwardly, but no one joins his forced mirth.

But she shakes her head. "No, it's fine. He will play as Queen."

"You've already gotten your chess pieces then?"

"The Rook and the Bishop," she answers. "They are all participating in the competition."

Another stands, slamming his hands down onto the table. "You've no pawns?!" he screamed. "How far you'll fall! Don't underestimate us!"

The spokesperson, once again, takes control. "Black Rose. Don't you think it's a bit early for you to enter then? It's impossible to win without an army."

"I've already an army," the witch said finally. "I would like for us all to move on."

"No. This is a matter of pride." One says.

"You've been going of on your own without telling anyone what you're doing." Another adds.

"It's clear you've got your own agenda."

"If you want to be apart of this alliance, you need to comply with our rules."

"Why are you with us to begin with? What's your goal?"

The witch stiffened, though she never relinquished her relaxed tone. "That, my dear friend, is none of your concern. Is this meeting adjourned then? Shall I take my leave?"

As the clamor grew, and more chaotic insults were thrusted here and there, the designated spokesperson simply sat there, rubbing his temples wearily. There was no use. He couldn't quell the crowd, nor could he get the Black Rose to listen, as usual. Perhaps an early retirement would be best after all.

The thought shattered when a blatant refusal sounded through the air.

It came from a young man, who, out of everyone, had just as much influence as the witch than anyone else, if not more. Though he didn't have the power to fight such an evil, he did, at least, have an army that might be able to rival hers. In everyone's eyes, the balance of power kept tipping between the two, and they all cheered whenever their protege came out on top, unaware and unwilling to know the standards the witch was abiding by.

He takes a deep breath, and looks the Black Rose in the eye. "Then please, show _us_ his worth!" he shouts confidently. "If he's that good in bed, then he should be just as competent on the battlefield!"

The insult went unanswered.

Rather than spending her time in the verbal assault, the witch gestures the concubine over, and he obeys with nary a hesitation. The familiar words take form in her mouth, and before long, they all see him down there, in that arena, walking steadily towards the center without much effort. He never noticed their prying eyes, never noticed their gossip or rumors. And neither did the witch, for that matter, who was already receiving offers and business deals regarding her lover.

The young man bit his lip, before coming down on his own to the stage.

* * *

They were all flabbergasted, of course, and Akiza knew it.

They didn't know why a lord of his stature would even waste his time with Yusei. Though he could bypass a few of the minor leaders, in the grand scheme of things, he had no power apart from the influence Akiza had already given him. Unless he fell out of favor with her, his position was secure. She cocked her head then, and stared down at his piercing blue eyes, which showed off a murderous aura within their corneas.

She smirked. What a wild crowd this was. Couldn't they see how much damage they were causing? If anything, she didn't need to do much to strip them of their reputations altogether, didn't need to even lift a finger since in the end, they'll destroy themselves. She only climbed out of her thoughts when she heard the young man snap, "Don't stare at your mistress that way! It's rude!"

Yusei scoffed then. "I don't follow your orders."

The fight never lasted long.

Though the boy was clairvoyant enough to see how much of a threat Yusei was, in the end, even he proved just as cocky as they. He only had to take one step, when his left leg immediately twisted through and through, ripping away from his skeletal frame. He was admirable, however, since he never screamed.

Yusei was still coming.

* * *

Alexis yawned, scarcely looking at the Algebra lesson, when she caught Jaden rounding the corner. Immediately, she forced herself up and began working, only to be slapped in the back of the head by the angered tutor. "You wanted lessons, didn't you?" he asked frustratedly.

"I didn't think you'd be _this_ much of a drill sergeant," she answered bitterly. "And besides, I said I needed Geometry, not Algebra. School's starting next week, remember?"

He stared at her for a little while. "You said you needed Algebra…"

"My schedule just came in."

"You didn't even know what classes you were taking?" he asked, plopping himself beside the blonde. "What? Did you just close your eyes and pick some random course?"

"Yes, actually! Yusei helped me with it!"

"That's not something you should be happy about."

"Speaking of being happy," she added, stretching her legs in front of herself. Her tired arms ached at the sudden activity, and before long, even she gave into the temptation. "Those two must be enjoying themselves."

"Well, yeah." he replies. "Akiza needed to teach those bastards another lesson about who's boss, so she's probably flaunting her political power right now. They're probably too stupid to even realize how much danger they're all."

She blinked. "It's your turn next time, right?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Author's Note:

For those of you who don't know, the rank of chess pieces follows King, then Queen, then Rook, then Bishop, then Knight, then pawn. During the middle ages, pawns would usually represent as peasants, and since the nobles believed they were so expendable, that's why they're so many of them. It's one of the reasons why so many coven leaders make such a big deal with the Black Rose, since she doesn't seem to have any pawns or knights. To them, it's like going off to war stark naked with a toothpick for a weapon.

But in Akiza's condition, they're all wrong, of course.


	18. Dream

She was running, running away from the painful sins they all draped her in. She was terrified, screaming, the agonizing decay rummaging through the depths of her mind like an unwanted predator slowly drawing her in. Sharp branches kept demolishing her already dying flesh, her legs beginning to crumble beneath the weight of her guilt. Remorse poured from her eyes, her faceless judgement now starting their sentencing. Her heart kept pounding against her ears, her pupils dashing here and there, clinging to what little sanity she had left. Ebony kept clouding her brain, the stone silence taking precedence in her mind. Compassions withered along the path, the lies of the lovers she once carried disappearing before her eyes. Before long, she was panting, her lungs bleeding from the desperate attempts of living, if only for another, flawed night.

She pried away the plants, kicked away the shrubs as she continued on with her frantic race, something the forests never completely understood. From her ears she could hear their giggles from behind the trees, their hauntings an isolated melody with very little chances of being heard. Tiny eyes kept peering her, the corpselike shadows decorating their eyes with very little need for crimson, the stains still very much real from centuries before. Their little hands grabbed her feet, her wrist, her elbows, doing whatever it could to seize her attention. Sharp, blank eyes began wandering her body, their morbid naiveté an innocence Death welcomed so very much.

Cages started rattling with each step she took, the chaos plummeting from the pits of her heart. She gasped for one final breath, the pendulum counting down the elegies that've already been read from that empty grave of hers. Bloody roses stained the ground, the creatures finding her with another breath, another memory forgotten within the abyss of time. Facades cracked beneath her weight, relationships that once held her so very dear now eroding away in the helpless nights of the jury that was callously observing her. She cries out, but no one hears her. She could feel their teeth on her flesh, their claws entrenched deep within her organs, clawing out the walls, scratching away the troublesome membranes that kept those pitiful children from finding her.

She awoke then.

Sweat shimmered down her forehead, an outstretched arm reaching out to the ceiling. Heavy breaths laid barren in the air, her chest heaving up and down, up and down. Her fingernails clutched the sheets underneath, and in that frightening instance, she felt streams of tears tickling down her face.

"Akiza?" a quiet voice whispers.

The witch jolts from her position, and hastily, she looks down. Her tense muscles release their apprehension, and immediately, all she could convince herself was the vague presence of the nightmares then, all of whom were slowly etching away from her mind. She wipes the sweat from her head, and looks down. "Sorry," she murmurs.

Without getting up, his hand warps around the back of her neck, pulling her back down to the bed. Strong arms come around her waist, as Yusei smothers her fears with his own body. It didn't take her long to realize how much she was shivering.

She could feel his inquiring gaze boring the door, the curiosity rising from every fading breath he took. However, much to her relief, he never delved in the matter. "Will you be alright?" he asks.

"Yes. Go back to sleep."

"You first."

She blinked. But she sighed, and nestled her cheek along his collarbone. She slept then, falling now to that welcoming, dreamless slumber.


	19. Confession

I love them too much.

And it's gotten to the point my already broken heart is crushed by the sheer enormity of the pain following suite.

Now that I think of it, perhaps that's been my sin all along.

* * *

Arisé.

That was my name in all of this. That was my name before, and even now I still use it sometimes, though Jaden and Akiza keep telling me not too. Sometimes, they'd scold me for doing so, while other times, they'd brush the attempt aside and call me by my new name altogether, giving me those scary fake smiles whenever I did. It doesn't change my feelings, however, but all the same, the obstacle has proven more than once a hindrance for me.

* * *

I first met the Black Rose when I escaped Fallen.

She hid me somewhere in darkness, somewhere not even the shadows dwelled, where the bleakest of lies dared not go and sins weren't blood red, but black. The color was so deep I couldn't even see myself from along the atmosphere, and any traces of the silhouettes that regarded my presence was already erased. I felt lost, and miserable, but in the end, I chose to stay, in spite of the dreadful demons coming after me.

She let me live with her for a while, in that darkness. Of course, there were good things and bad things, rules that had to be laid down. There were people I needed to avoid talking to, people I needed to talk to, and people I should ignore, even if I _wanted_ to talk with them for a tiny bit. She taught me right from wrong, taught me how to control my presence, and how to escape if I was ever caught. In a way, she was like a mother to me, a big sister, a friend, all of it rolled up into one. It didn't matter what anyone else thought of her; as long as she was alive, that was all I ever needed. Even when she asked me to, I refused to leave her side.

We traveled together for a long time. Glorious mansions faded from existence, and countries that promised everlasting rule crumbled away before my very eyes. Even the purest of monarchs from every pedigree, managed to become corrupted, destroying their own selves along with their the sinful desires they've obsessed over, as well as their own loved ones innocent or not; it was all in the grand scheme of things, it seemed. Wars came and went, feuds forgotten, grudges bearing marks of friendships blossoming once more in that big, beautiful Earth of ours, and suddenly, I realize nothing stayed forever. Forever was a really long time, after all, and I couldn't quite comprehend that, even when I was as old as I was.

Hah…it appears sorrow never touched me, despair never found me, following to the sheltered, frivolous life I'd been living. But even that wasn't eternal, embedded in some heavenly frame for everyone to see and remember. Yet there was one thing I believe was eternal, one thing I couldn't help but notice ever since I crossed paths with the witch.

Fallen. That was the organization I heard about from Akiza; she would always go on and on about how sick and twisted all the branches were. Since we were both products of that terrifying, cruel nature, of course we would go on with our crusades, doing whatever we could to stop the wayward humans, even if it meant killing ourselves in the process. She kept talking about the children, and the experiments, and the offspring having nothing to do with the war she was about to wage. The determination was so very present in her eyes, and it was so nightmarish I obeyed her every command.

During that time, I met a boy, whose name was Christoph Alteo. It was in the afternoon, I believe, near some cliffs that were giving into time's brutal encounters. He was handsome, with carmel hair cascading down his skull, the same, dark eyes to match. He was around fourteen or fifteen, from what I could tell. He looked really nice, and he said a lot of nice things too. He talked about his family, about his siblings; he kept relaying to me how nice they were, how mean they acted toward him sometimes. Though he was frustrated with them, and though he kept refusing he actually cared about them, in the end, I knew he was lying.

Since then, we started our little trysts. When Akiza wasn't around, we would meet in some old manor falling away from the edge of the world, or near a forgotten village, trampled on by the witch hunts and murderous nobles and priest, or even in some restaurant hidden beneath a mundane reality, where everyone minded their own and had nothing to look forward to in their dull, boring lives. In a way, I felt like the secret was mine and mine alone. I was excited that I had something she didn't know about, thoughts she couldn't share, and it was refreshing. I loved her, but all the same, I didn't want her to know; if she did, it would've taken the magic out of all of it.

That all changed one night.

Christoph and I were walking through a wood. We were nearing the edge of the forests, wild creatures prowling the vicinity of the shadows, when we were ambushed.

There was a blond woman there, who kept screaming sat him, shouting at him, demanding what he was doing and why I was still there. She struck him down in that instant, and after that, she came after me. I did everything I could to fight against her. I did everything I could've possibly thought of, yet in the end, she still managed to come barreling down on me. I felt her soldiers swarming over us then. I felt their perverted hands on me, and before I knew it, I'd already lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a field. Familiar screams sounded from my ears, the agonizing cries jolting me awake, despite my fatigue. I was there, on a stage, surrounded by barbed wire, and needles, and weapons and the like. I saw Christoph, sitting there, with empty eyes, a tiny smile grazing his face. I saw him staring at me, murmuring incoherent words I never would've accepted, however happy it made him. I saw him there, my precious, innocent secret, never looking at anyone else but me.

It was to that extent did I realize how much of a threat I actually was.

I tore the world around him then, on that day.

I slaughtered everyone, if only for his sake.

 _Alexis Rhodes_

 _Requiem for the Black Rose_


	20. End

He stared at her, in that cold, winter haze, as the twilight rummaged through the clouds satanically, mercilessly. Beneath that cold moonlight, he catches sight of the silhouettes dancing around her ugly frame, a procession of shadows along the crimson stains, for which the sentence was sealed. Blinding gales rushed past him, the nightmares taking form once again, drawing out whatever sustenance they had, if only for another brief moment with his defiled lover. Dark, tenebrous forms took their mass, the congregation chanting away their demonic dreams, as they grant the creature one last pardon, one last reprieve, before sealing her away to a nonexistent death, sleeping through one memory to the next, no emotions to guide her along the way.

Her crumpled body lay in his arms, and though she was still conscious, she kept gasping, breathing, the cold summoning her away from the reality's chaotic chains. Her veins protruded from underneath her skin, the limitless supply of blood flowing throughout her systems never once bothering to comprehend the task they've already asked her with. She clutches the ground, her nails corrupting the decaying earth underneath, as she screams agonizingly into the air, the moans enchanting every helpless monster from beneath her victims. Dreams cast their bids, as her mind becomes infatuated with every single cell inside, every little thought, every little feeling to which the guilt had manifested her with.

To the side, there they were, their beloved, younger siblings, lying helplessly along the mud, dismembered along with the rest of her victims. The boy's skull was smashed through, shattered into tiny little pieces without reluctance, without even the slightest bit of concern for his wellbeing. Blood dripped from his pale, thin lips, the terror in his eyes still present under the shadows. Bone was shredded away, torn to pieces with very little effort, and all the while flesh kept hanging from his limbs, hoping that, at least, they'd be able to cover up what little was left of his organs. The girl had suffered more; her kind heart had been torn away and tossed aside, the reaches of her collarbone removed from the essence of her neck. Blond strands were scattered everywhere, and though her head remained in tact, her body had been ripped apart, the torso scattering the organs everywhere in sight. The spine was detached, tiny disks left dancing within the confines of the harsh wind. A tiny frown tugged at her own lips, and along with it, tears descended down her cheeks, the hopes she carried so deeply in her heart finally laying to rest.

Only a few moments later did the Black Rose begin straining herself once again, the growing fangs elongating from the sides of her jaws.

Yusei gripped her tightly, his eyes wide with fear. She was turning. She was turning and he _didn't know what to do._

Around the coven, the destructive mess that laid near the horizon was now being swept away by the heavenly dawn. Ashes were embedded into the buildings, tiny glimpses of night straying from the grey. Burning embers were hidden along the side, the nightmares taking form so readily, so easily, and without delay. Broken edifices were shattered along the black stone, and once again, centuries of past promises relayed to the members then.

"Akiza!" he screamed, trying to get the witch to remain conscious, if only for a bit longer. "Akiza, what'd you think you're doing?!"

She heaved heavily, her arms trembling with a corrupt power he hadn't known for a very long time. He clenched his teeth, crushing her body against the chest. "Are you even listening?! _Hey_!"

He could still feel that strain claiming her body, succumbing her to the silent prayers she made so very long ago. Snow white sorrow fell from Yusei's eyes then, as he clutched her tightly, doing whatever he could to make the witch stay, if only for a little while longer.

And finally, he heard a soft chuckle against his ear. "You're loud."

"Just shut up," he said. "You're gonna be alright. Just wait, and-!"

"Hey," she interrupted quietly. "You're bleeding. You know that, right?"

He clenched his teeth. His left eye had been gorged out by the monster who had taken the Black Rose's place just minutes before. Pieces of bone were revealed from his leg; an iron rod pierced through his shoulder, and though he managed to pry it away, a gaping hole had remained where muscle once took precedence. His own internal frame was breaking down at the seams, and though it was only just beginning to heal, it'd be a while before Yusei, along with the others, could escape from the mess, a week at most. By then, another coven would've found them, and killed them all.

He remains quiet, but breaks through to his frustrations when he heard her laughing, amidst the Gothic, morbid fray.

He grasps her then. " _What the hell do you think you're doing?!"_ he shouts. "Why're you laughing?! Can't you see what's gonna happen?! What're you-?"

"Listen," she whispers then, wrapping her skeletal arms around his neck. And immediately, Yusei froze, savoring the remaining sanity she had left, in that moment, in that eternity. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could just stay like this?"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Just you and me and Jaden and Alexis," she continues, the melancholy falling softly from her voice. "Wouldn't it be great if we could just keep doing destroying the world around us? Rip away the fears and sorrows, never feel an ounce of pain or sadness? It'd be great, wouldn't it?"

"Stop talking like that! Save it for later-!"

"You're an idiot," she chuckles, before, once again, clutching her own will to the ground, straining against the creature taking form in front of him. She gasped desperately once again, blood pouring through the age-old wounds on her temples. She leans in again, her head resting on his neck. "I need you to do something for me."

"Is this really the time to be spouting out orders?" he silently asks. "We've got to move, before-"

He felt her lips brush up against his neck, the despair lingering from the surface of his skin. She let go then, the skin eroding away from her once warm face. She smiles, before pulling his own lips down and smashing them into hers. Her tongue forces his mouth open, the sanctified blood from the depths of her now tainted body entering his. It was stable enough, she knew, to reside in him. He wouldn't suffer the same fate as she, though in the end, the scar will be painfully obvious, to him, to the remaining coven, everyone around them.

She gazes up at him, her golden rises resigning themselves to the monster, who was slowly peeping out from her soul. "Listen," she says again, pushing Yusei away without the slightest hesitation. "And stand."

He did so, her own, musical voice guiding him. The realization struck him heavily, with little doubt the mourning that would occur afterwards. She closes her eyes, and hears the familiar click of the gun hidden beneath the folds of his jacket. His footsteps come around to her back, his reluctance still very much apart of the happy dream she finally shattered.

She opened her gaze, and used what little normality she had left to smile. "You really are loyal, aren't you?"

The gunshot resonated from the brutal air.


	21. Judgement

When Belletrix told me that Christoph had died, I never could believe it.

It wasn't that my younger brother was too innocent to kill; he wasn't as naive as people made him out to be, so immature about the world around him to actually pain the Black Rose. No, not at all; I think it was because he was the director of the Krakow branch did the conspiracies target him. After all, he'd been working on a creation, something sick and twisted, something that could bring the witch to her knees. Perhaps it was because of that then, did Fallen target him, or because of his own military prowess that they deemed him too unstable, or even because of the subject matter he was working on was too dangerous for anyone to handle.

Either way, Christoph was gone, and only Belletrix and I were left in this cruel game.

I didn't know why I refused to accept that fact at the time. I didn't have any reason to doubt Belletrix. She would never miss a fact as crucial as that. Perhaps it was because she seemed so shaken by the lie that she kept trying to keep up the facade, or maybe because she didn't want me to defect from Fallen to go after him, just as so many of our soldiers had. But within it all, it was mainly her own fears that kept me by her side. I didn't want to leave her alone in the callous world, even though she had enough resources to keep the Black Rose at bay.

I didn't want to leave her.

However, it seemed our fortunes were never truly that fortunate. For that was probably the first time I was truly interested in Akiza. I'd gone out of my way to seek her out. Anger, frustration, revenge, despair; everything relayed into my emotions when I'd found out the witch had taken yet another one of my siblings. I wasn't at all ready to move on from that period, couldn't comprehend the tiniest thoughts of maturity.

I invested all my time into tracking her down, using my own name to gather the resources needed. I spent countless nights lying there awake, dreaming of the day she'd simply lie there, in a puddle of mud and blood. I promised myself I would savor every apology she would murmur, cackle at every little plea she made for her life. She was going to burn at the stakes for what she did to them, for what little peace she robbed from Fallen.

Those emotions had dissipated when she murdered Mree.

It was a mercy killing, from what I could remember. My sister was slowly changing, the experiments that attempted to remove her kind, compassionate heart steadily growing more and more unstable. Tears fell from the side of her cheeks, and from the way she kept calling out to all of us, to Belletrix, and Christoph, and even me, it was enough to warrant her own, wonderful suicide. She kept crying out, begging for us all to turn away, to slaughter whatever pain we had left in our hearts before delivering her inevitable sentence. Her crumpled body was lying in the Black Rose's arms, her torso twisting painfully around her spine. They were both in a pool of blood, a result of the many dead soldiers Fallen had sent after the witch so carelessly, the corpses beginning to fade away within the midst of night as I stood there, mesmerized by the scene.

"Turn away" was the first order Akiza had given me.

And I did just that, as I closed my eyes, while watching my sister disappear from the world altogether.

* * *

The aristocratic, vain world the Black Rose coven had stemmed from blossomed from the moment Akiza made her debut.

It was a legalistic system, from what I could understand. Coven leaders were always to be heard, and were the basis of this tainted society. Of course, there were exceptions, and with those exceptions were higher titles. First it was the Lord, then the Jack, then Queen, then King, then Ace; those were the positions held when a few of the coven leaders exerted more power than anyone else. Over time, the balance began to favor the few of the people who held such titles, and in the process, the coven leaders became minor lords, living off the lands of other more powerful monsters. Some had to pay tithes, while others had to come when called, serving either as a mere soldier, to sometimes becoming one of the more trusted servants, advising the leader in whatever way they could.

However, coven leaders did have their own power. They had pawns, expendable soldiers they could use to fight off any enemy, ward off any foe; as long as they had enough, the leaders themselves would never run out of any resources. In return, they were expected to guard the pawns, and inspire frightening loyalty from within their frames, if only to make their servants stay a while longer. Knights took charge to the pawns, acting as mentors, or even as comrades in arms, since they were just as expendable as they. From then, you can guess the chain of command, with queens being the second-in-commands to the coven leaders themselves. Rarely were queens lovers themselves, and when they were, they can exert their own influence across the rest of the coven, no matter how false and delusional they seem.

From our memories, you already know how the covens hungered for more soldiers. It's a common misconception within this putrid world of ours, that the more you have, the better off you'd be. It was a relatively noncontroversial norm, since, of course, you've more influence on society, and thus, have more control over the puppets you manipulate. It was something no one bothered arguing about, and that was why Akiza was deemed a witch.

She broke the rules.

We've all witnessed her reign. Unlike her peers, she only had three in her coven. Possessing no army, no power, no force, and yet all the same, managing to craft her own influence over a majority of the minor leaders, as well as a few of the major ones. The only possible way for her to do such a thing was by either going out to the battlefield herself, or usurping control of another rival coven; most of the time, she opted for the latter.

Formality was also a bit or an issue. Compassion wasn't particularly known, and whenever a kindness was shown, generally, it meant weakness was within the covens' ranks. There was a link in the coven that needed to be broken, and whoever found it could easily drag that coven to its knees. Leaders weren't supposed to consort with lower members, and the only conversation ever permitted between the two classes was either giving out orders, or to dolling out punishments. When the leader opens their mouth, you listen. You don't talk back. You don't argue. You don't sit there and merely converse with the leader like you've known them forever. They were neither your friends nor family; this was no exception for concubines or queens.

It was the reason why we would get into so many fights during the conferences. I made it a point to speak when we were alone together, or if Jaden and Alexis were with us, not causing as much havoc as they would. Akiza would never abide my advice, and would always continue doing as she pleased.

However, I was the only one who got to see her real face. I was the only one who got to understand her agony, her happiness, and whatever stupidity came to her mind, if only for a brief moment. She never showed her true self to anyone but me. Even when she cared for Jaden and Alexis as greatly as she did, for some reason, she was bothered by the vulnerability. She didn't want to lose their respect, and though I kept telling her over and over how impossible that was, in the end, she never did listen.

* * *

Akiza was fickle in a lot of ways.

She was always going from one place to another, claiming territories without the slightest effort put into her activities. But once she was bored of that place, she would give it to one of us to govern, and would head off to another unknown land, where she would thus try and rekindle her passion for the bloody battlefield. The attitude also showed whenever she was around us. She was always keeping herself busy, from helping Alexis with yet another one of her pointless pursuits, to consoling Jaden whenever he'd gotten into another fight with a stranger from down the street. She kept up with her lighthearted appearances, and even when she was mad, it never showed on her face. It was absolutely terrifying.

The one thing, however, that remained permanent was her guilt.

She's hated Fallen, ever since she muddled the name "Amaryllis" from her memories. She's hated everyone there, the scientists, the experiments, the ignorant families, all of whom were residing in their very facilities. She's wanted to end the bystanders that caused her the most pain, the desire so willingly desperate she was willing to sacrifice her own, dreamless slumbers for it. The nightmares plunged her into that revenge-filled world, a place where black and red reigned supreme, taking over whatever was left of her own conscience.

But those feelings never excused her from the sins she's committed.

The experiments Fallen typically used were young children who were lost, abandoned, kidnapped, whatever the circumstance may be. Only after a fortnight or so do the tiny souls begin losing themselves, their nervous systems shutting down due to the excess of drugs the scientists have been giving them. Opium, meth, heroine, every single thing that spiraled the toxic nightmares down a chaotic chasm was used on one lone child. Generally, a month later, that experiment would be proclaimed brain dead, unable to operate by themselves, placed on a burdensome machine where at any time, in any second, the last bit of energy their cells would give out would finally lose their vigilance.

Akiza murdered those children.

 _She_ murdered them.

When we were alone, she was always muttering the same excuse over and over again. The only time she ever did say something about it was when she was dreaming. Tears would pour down her face, and she would keep muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over.

But I refused to believe it. No, her sanity wasn't slipping away. She wasn't like my sisters.

I didn't realize how wrong that assumption was until I killed her.

* * *

It'd been 50 years since Akiza had died.

Jaden and Alexis are both attending Duel Academy, and soon, they'll be graduating. I didn't see why they wanted to go there; they already know the material, but then again, Jaden's already constructed their characters, he a lazy slacker, and Alexis a hardworking, brilliant student. Belletrix had gone missing several years prior to the decision, and though I hear stray rumors whisper her name time and time again, I never did see her again.

No one knew of Akiza's death, and since my defection from the alliance, everyone still believed the witch was still here, still alive, still breathing. I never gave them a reason to suspect otherwise, since I took on her legacy, ripping away territory after territory, destroying whatever I could find without the slightest hesitations. Eventually, I took over the criminal syndicates, the political backbones worshiping my own opinion above anyone else's. As of that point, not even the Aces could make a move against the coven, at least, not without me knowing it. I've pawns now, and countless number of Rooks and Bishops, all of whom stopped trying to curry my favor long before.

But I only needed two Queens, a remnant from that warm, glistening past we all shared once.

I sit here now, as the new coven leader. I didn't know what to make of any of it, even now, with the fading sunlight before me. I didn't understand what to do, what she wanted from me. What a confusing time this was, even after everything that's happened.

I can't stay like this forever.

 _Yusei_

 _The Black Rose_


End file.
